Don’t Cook Like I Do.

For years I have said I am going to have a cooking show and call it ‘Don’t Cook Like I Do’. After several attempts of burning down the kitchen and a variety of interesting saves, I pretended tonight was episode one. My Mother gives me these saucy little magazines called everyday food (’great food fast from Martha Stewart’). I actually read them occasionally along with another one she brings over called Cookie which is about children. Both rags are sufficiently filled with enough hints and things I should have to make me feel entirely inadequate. So with the page torn out for Mediterranean Chicken Packets from an inspiring Tennessee reader named Joanna Douglas, I added the ingredients to my never ending grocery list. We are sleep deprived here. Darling Savannah, now banned from chocolate, was up until, well, we lost track at 4:30 am. I simply did not notice I had not picked up olives, or artichoke hearts (being Abby’s favorite they were on the list twice) until I began cooking tonight’s meal. It was then that I saw it was parchment paper that was called for not phyllo dough, which I had remembered to take out of the freezer. Now one thing that happens around here is Charlie likes to grill, and it is slick when he does a bunch of everything cause then I use that the rest of the week. So I put the torn chicken on several phyllo sheets I had brushed with olive oil, added garden tomatoes and feta cheese, the one ingredient originally called for beside the chicken. And, feeling particularly inspired by my own self, simply because I no longer cared, I threw some asparagus on top and sprinkled it with salt, pepper, and a wee bit more olive oil. Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes. These pockets even fit the Heart of New Ulm nutrition address at the ladies night out last week.