Chicken

I like to think I’m an expert on chicken.  Cooking and consuming it, that is.

You see, chicken and I have a special relationship.  About this time last year my uterus was just starting to pre-heat something super good and super sweet that became our third little princess, Amelia Hope.

But before I knew she was who she is and back when I had just found out we were going for “third time’s the charm” and I lived in a fantasy world where my third and final pregnancy was going to be all bliss and happy memories, I started to get, you know, nauseous.

It’s such an understatement for 12 weeks of pure misery.  And during that time, do you know what my favorite thing was?

That’s right.  Chicken.  See how we’ve come full circle?

For the longest time all I could eat was chicken.  Poor Joshua asked if we were ever going to have red meat again.  I told him to take himself to lunch at Burger King and leave me alone.  But in the interest of all things economical and easy, I did learn a few things during my chicken binge.  Specifically, that my family will eat chicken in any state out of any dish.  And now that I am finally emerging from my sleep-deprived-return-to-work existence of the past month, I have begun cooking again.  In moderation.

Hence, this post.  The other night (last Monday to be exact) I took the chicken that had been percolating in my crock pot all day and turned it into meals for the whole week.  Below is a photo journal of all we had…..and obviously, I’ve been reading Pioneer Woman recipes and am totally playing copycat.  I’m not sure what’s better: her food ideas or her comments.