I had the New Years dinner preparations well in hand this afternoon when it came time to bread the chicken. The table was set, the black-eyed peas had been stewing and the greens had been braising since earlier in the day. The ham was sliced; the rice cooker at the ready, and water on to blanch the corn.
When I grabbed the homemade bread crumbs, I noticed a small bag of extra crumbs next to them and tossed them all together with some salt, paprika, and hot pepper. As I took the pounded chicken paillards from their buttermilk and egg bath and dredged away, a faintly familiar smell, sweet and cinnamony, wafted from the bread crumbs.
I froze a moment, eyes wide. Could it be?
Tasting a quick pinch confirmed my fears. It was graham cracker crumbs that I had added to my mixture. All was not lost by any means, and when I confessed my error to my brother, we briefly wondered if perhaps this might be one of those legendary accidents that become an amazing tradition.
Alas, the answer was a resounding nope, but it was nothing a little hot sauce couldn't fix. May all the mistakes of 2016 be so easy to remedy!
When I grabbed the homemade bread crumbs, I noticed a small bag of extra crumbs next to them and tossed them all together with some salt, paprika, and hot pepper. As I took the pounded chicken paillards from their buttermilk and egg bath and dredged away, a faintly familiar smell, sweet and cinnamony, wafted from the bread crumbs.
I froze a moment, eyes wide. Could it be?
Tasting a quick pinch confirmed my fears. It was graham cracker crumbs that I had added to my mixture. All was not lost by any means, and when I confessed my error to my brother, we briefly wondered if perhaps this might be one of those legendary accidents that become an amazing tradition.
Alas, the answer was a resounding nope, but it was nothing a little hot sauce couldn't fix. May all the mistakes of 2016 be so easy to remedy!
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