Cream of Chicken Soup/Broccoli Rice Casserole

When I was a kid I hated broccoli. Every once in a while my parents would serve it with dinner*, and I would choke it down... often in tears at the injustice of it all. Then one day I was introduced to the best thing ever:

Broccoli. Rice. Casserole.

Apparently it had been served at holiday meals for years and I had been oblivious all that time. I was in college and someone pointed out the casserole to me and I bluntly replied, No thanks. I don't like broccoli. But whoever this angel was convinced me that you couldn't even taste the broccoli, so I decided to be polite and took a small portion to try. I was an adult now, after all.

So I grudgingly took a bite of this casserole that I was sure I was going to have to immediately wash down with whatever I was drinking, and then the sweet deliciousness grazed my tongue and I was in love. With the casserole, anyway.

Broccoli didn't suddenly become my favorite food of all time, but I'll at least eat it willingly now. I don't think I've mentioned, but I'm currently assisting with some of the school gardening programs in Houston, so recently I've become acquainted with the broccoli plant.

Source: http://gardeninggarden.com/2009/09/18/growing-broccoli/

Before this, I always kind of thought broccoli just grew right out of the ground, sort of like asparagus. 

Source: http://www.gardenharvestsupply.com/ProductCart/pc/Asparagus-Plants-for-Sale-Jersey-Male-Asparagus-Crowns-c48.htm

Just imagine those little stem toppers blossoming into a broccoli head. That's basically what I thought happened.

So anyway, I learned the broccoli is actually the flower bud of a very large plant and if you let it continue to grow, little yellow flowers will blossom out of the broccoli head. Also, I learned that fresh-picked broccoli is delicious.

Arlond, on the other hand, has not been convinced. For a man that loves his vegetables, he's actually pretty picky about which ones he eats (mostly potatoes, peas, corn, and carrots—but only if they're cooked!). I recently roped him onto the asparagus bandwagon...but only because bacon was involved. Baby steps, I say.

So I tried the same route that got me on the broccoli train, but he didn't fall for the cheesy goodness that is broccoli rice casserole. I'd kind of given up on the idea until I had an epiphany:

Chicken Broccoli Rice Casserole.

I mentioned it to Arlond and he said it sounded good. So I decided to whip up a test batch. Anyway, here's the recipe for the original:

Ingredients:
2 sticks of butter
1 16 oz. bag of chopped broccoli
2 cups of rice
2 cans of cream of mushroom soup
2 cups of shredded cheese (I use sharp cheddar)
1 cup milk
1 cup water

Recipe:
1. Sauté broccoli in butter
2. Mix all other ingredients together in a 9x13 dish
3. Add broccoli to pan--mix well
4. Bake at 375°F for about an hour

While this recipe is delicious, there are a few issues that I wanted to address:

1. I want to add chicken.

2. A 9x13 casserole is perfect for taking to a social gathering, but much too big for the two of us.

3. I've always used instant rice, but I want to switch to whole grain.

4a. I don't really like mushrooms.

4b. I want to get away from using canned soup. Especially condensed soup.

So my goals were to make a smaller portion using whole grain rice, a homemade substitute for the cream of mushroom soup, and also throwing some chicken in there somewhere. I also used fresh broccoli instead of frozen, but that wasn't a serious change. I've gotten pretty good at downsizing, so my biggest concerns were the substitutions.

I figured that the rice would be in the oven long enough that it would cook similarly to the instant rice, so I just decided to test it out that way (Note: This did not really work, but more on that later). I basically just decided to mix the chicken in with everything else and see what happens. I debated on whether or not to pre-cook the chicken, and ultimately decided against it. My chicken nugget recipe only has the chicken bits cooking for 20 minutes before they're done, so I figured doubling that would most definitely be enough when they're cut approximately the same size. So all that was left was the condensed soup.

I googled "cream of mushroom soup substitute" and basically learned that all I needed to do was to make a roux. I checked out a few different recipes and decided to wing it:

1-2 Tbs butter

1/4ish cup flour

Milk

Chicken stock

Sea salt

Pepper

Melt butter is small pan. Slowly add flour until a thick paste forms. Add equal parts milk and stock until desired consistency is reached. Salt and pepper to taste.

Also, I realized this is basically identical to my dad's gravy recipe, except for the whole turkey/chicken stock difference. So since I learned from my mistakes last time, the roux actually came out quite nicely and could potentially serve as a chicken gravy.

So when it was all said and done, this was roughly my recipe:

3 Tbs butter

1 head broccoli, chopped

1 chicken breast, diced

3/4ish cup whole grain rice

1 recipe homemade cream of chicken soup

More milk

1 cup cheddar cheese

Sauté broccoli in butter. Mix chicken, rice, cream of chicken soup, and milk in 8x6ish glass baking pan. Add broccoli and mix. Add cheese. Bake at 350°F for about 40 minutes.

So the one major problem with my final product is that the rice did not fully cook and was still crunchy. Despite this, it was delicious. Also, I'm pretty sure the rice in the remaining servings is soaking up all the remnant liquid-y goodness and is getting slightly less crunchy as I type. It probably won't be completely cured, but it's a start. Next time, I'm debating between partially pre-cooking the rice or just adding more liquid for it to soak up in the casserole and possibly cook it a little longer. I plan to ask my rice-loving friends at school tomorrow for input. I will keep you posted on the results of my queries. 

*Note: Earlier I claimed that my parents served broccoli out of a can when I was a child, but I was recently informed that this was simply not true (or at least, my mother never did). As such, I have retracted the statement and instead would like to say that they served me frozen broccoli. My mom also claimed that she may have possibly served us fresh broccoli, but I don't remember ever seeing it in the fridge, so I think she made that part up.

Collard Greens

Last week, I acquired some collard greens. Later that evening, my work-wife invited me over for dinner and said she was making tilapia and salad. So I said, "Oh! I just got some collard greens we can add to the salad!"

My work-wife, who is from the South, kind of snorted and said something to the effect of "In the salad? You have to cook them!"

Lesson learned: Just because they look like salad greens, doesn't make them so.

Now let's flash back to the last time I ate cooked greens. I was probably about nine years old. My brother, sister, and I accompanied our mother to the grocery store, and while we were in the middle of the canned fruits and vegetables aisle, we came across a can of spinach. My brother and I begged our mom to buy it and serve it to us. So we could be like Popeye. With a knowing smirk, she bought it for us and served it that very night. We were so excited. As soon as we said grace, I grabbed my fork, scooped up a heaping portion of spinach, and shoved it in my mouth. And. It. Was. Awful. My parents had a good laugh and I didn't touch spinach again until I was in college—and even now, I only ever eat it raw.

So I asked my all-knowing collards expert work-wife what you're supposed to do with them, and she told me this: Bacon and vinegar.

Armed with the belief that anything fresh and bacon-ized is better than the atrocity that came out of that spinach can, I cooked up some collards the next day:

Collard greens
Bacon
Balsamic vinegar
Butter
Sea salt
Pepper

Cut up bacon into bite-sized bits and begin to cook in medium pan. Wash the collards and cut up into smaller pieces. Add to bacon and sauté with butter and vinegar until soft. Salt and pepper to taste.

I can smell the deliciousness from here. Mostly because I can't smell it at all.

So I ate my big bowl of collards. And it was passable. Considering the amazing-ness that is all things bacon, this is kind of an insult to it.

Later, I confessed my feelings about collards to my work-wife:

We'll see about that.

I think can safely say any sort of cooked greens are pretty gross. Maybe I'll learn the secret to unlocking sweet deliciousness and change my mind, but until then, I'm just gonna stick to eating the raw kind.

Thanksgiving

In case you were unaware: Thanksgiving happened.

Since my husband and I moved away from our families this summer, it was the first time we were having a big holiday on our own. We certainly missed our families, but we wanted to do something fun instead of wallowing over the holiday weekend. One of Arlond's co-workers graciously invited us into her home on Thanksgiving, where we had a very yummy traditional turkey dinner.

Then on Saturday, Arlond and I invited some friends over and had our very own Thanksgiving feast. We'd both helped out with big holiday meals before, but this was the first time we did it on our own. So naturally, it was an adventure.

First things first, we had to decide on a menu. After careful debate, we finally settled on the following:

Organic Free-Range Roasted Turkey
Gravy
Mediterranean Stuffing
Mashed Potatoes
Deviled Eggs
Cranberry Sauce
Sweet Potato Casserole
Persimmon Bread Pudding
Pumpkin Pie

Note: Our friends also brought rolls, salad, and green bean casserole.

Next, we had to figure out how to make all of this. We'd made mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, and deviled eggs a million times, so that was no problem, but pretty much everything else was a first. My dad is the ultimate turkey expert, so I called him and made him tell me everything there is to know about cooking turkey. I took notes on an envelope. Here are some excerpts from our conversation:

"How many people are you serving? 8? You'll probably need at least a 12-pound turkey so you have leftovers." (This was WAAAAAY too much turkey. I really probably only needed 8-9 pounds, but I think we ate most of it... eventually.)
"Defrost the turkey." (I just bought a non-frozen one. Check.)
"I don't really know what the recommended cooking temperature and time are off hand. Just look them up online. There are charts." (Note: These charts are all for conventional turkeys...which will come into play as the story progresses...)
"Find a stuffing recipe you like. Try to find a really moist stuffing so your turkey will be moist too. I really like stuffing so I stuff as much stuffing into every nook and cranny of the bird. Once the bottom gets full, I'll shove some in the neck cavity too. Toothpicks are really good for holding everything in. I usually still have more stuffing leftover, so I'll wrap it up in foil and cook it next to the turkey." (Yeah, my dad really is obsessed with stuffing. I never really cared for it and was really only making it for the sake of a moist bird. The side pouch is a good way to set stuffing aside for your vegetarian friends and family, too!)
"Put your turkey in a foil pan or a roasting pan if you have one, but the foil pan will work. Then pour milk all over it. Pour until you've got between 1/2 and 1 inch pooled at the bottom of the pan. Then take a stick of butter and rub it all over the turkey. Like, the whole stick. Then put it in the oven and every 15-20 minutes rub more butter on it. Just use one of those pop-up timers so you'll know when it's done." (The butter and milk sounds pretty ridiculous, but it is amazing. My dad makes the best turkey ever, so this is solid gold advice right here.)

So then I asked my dad about making gravy:
"I'm not really that great at making gravy. It usually tastes good, but it always looks bad. It's probably because the turkey juice is so buttery. So I'd recommend trying to skim off as much grease as possible before starting. But stir the turkey juice in a sauce pan on low heat and slowly add in flour and water until it looks like gravy. If it's too thin, add more flour. If it's too thick, add more water. If you need more gravy, you can just water it down some more and then add more flour to thicken it back up."

So there you have it. My dad's uncanny turkey wisdom. Next I had to figure out about stuffing. As I mentioned more subtly earlier, I hate stuffing. Savory stuffing tastes like over-parsley-ed soggy bread, and I have a strong aversion to sweet stuffing (my dad's preferred choice) because I just can't accept mixing sweetness and meat juice together. It just doesn't seem right. So I perused my Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook and found a recipe for Mediterranean Stuffing (p.481):

8 cups Italian bread cubes
3/4 cup chopped bell pepper
1/2 cup chopped onion
3 cloves minced garlic
1/4 cup olive oil
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon rosemary
1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/4 cup parsley (I think I toned this down a bit though)
1 to 1 1/4 cup chicken broth

1. Place bread cubes in single layer on a cookie sheet. Bake at 375°F for 10 minutes or until golden, stirring once, set aside.
2. Cook bell pepper, onion, and garlic in hot oil for about 4 minutes or until tender. Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice, rosemary, and cayenne pepper. Toss bread cubes, onion mixture, and parsley in a large bowl. Drizzle with enough broth to moisten.

Better Homes and Gardens also hooked me up with an amazingly easy recipe for cranberry sauce (p. 522):

1 cup sugar
1 cup water
2 cups cranberries

Combine sugar and water in medium saucepan and bring to a boil for 5 minutes to dissolve sugar. Add cranberries. Return to boiling, then reduce heat. Boil gently and uncovered until cranberries pop, stirring occasionally.

I had recently bought some persimmons from the farmer's market and wasn't sure what to do with them until I found the recipe for persimmon bread pudding on the Whole Foods website.

For the pumpkin pie, I wanted to use real pumpkin instead of the canned pumpkin, so I compared notes between my mom and Better Homes and Gardens, and used this recipe:

Crust:
1 1/4 cups flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup butter
4-5 tablespoons cold water

1. Mix flour and salt in medium bowl and add butter and mash in until butter is in pea-sized pieces.
2. Sprinkle water over mixture and blend. Repeat until dough is moistened. Form into a ball.
3. Roll out dough until about 12 inches wide. Place in pie pan and trim edges.

Pie:
2 cups puréed pumpkin (Cut up pumpkin and roast for about an hour. Peel and purée.)
1/2 cup sugar
1 heaping teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 heaping teaspoon ginger
1/4 heaping teaspoon nutmeg
1/4-1/2 teaspoon cloves
2 eggs
3/4 cup heavy whipping cream

1. Preheat oven to 375°F. Combine pumpkin, sugar, and spices. Add eggs, beat lightly with a fork until combined. Gradually add cream, stir until just combined.
2. Place pie pan and crust on oven rack and carefully pour filling into pastry shell. Cover edge of pie with foil to prevent over browning. Bake 25 minutes, remove foil and bake another 25 minutes until it passes the toothpick test.

Then the big day came. We had most of the ingredients on hand, but we had to buy a few things that day. We inevitably made three trips to the grocery store when it was all said and done, but oh well. We started off with prepping the turkey and the stuffing:

Our beautiful turkey friend, "Hank", named after his cousin on New Girl

Thanks to my crafty chicken de-boning skills, I easily pulled this right out. I'm pretty sure it's Hank's man parts, but Arlond tried to convince me that it was his neck. Either way, I'm not ashamed to admit that I played with it for like 10 minutes before Arlond made me throw it away.

 

Everything started off really well and was going smoothly. And then Hank had a little surprise for us about an hour before he was supposed to be done...

Arlond: "Uh... Hank's done."

Me: "What do you mean, he's done?! He's got like another hour!"

Arlond: "No. the pop-up popped up. I checked with the meat thermometer and he's done."

This is when things started to get crazy.

Between the two of us, we had just started the deviled eggs, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, and bread pudding. And now the turkey needed to be carved and gravy needed to be made. So the bread pudding and sweet potato casserole got finished up first so we could throw them both in the oven. Then we had to get the deviled eggs done so they were out of the way because they were EVERYWHERE. Arlond continued to work on his little mashed potato project by himself and the cranberry sauce was pretty self-sufficient and only needed an occasional stir-up from me. Meanwhile I'm praying someone will show up early and save us from this nightmare (PS: No one did). And Hank pretty much got the shaft after he got done early.

Why did he get done so early you ask? Here is my theory: As I mentioned previously, Hank was an organic free-range turkey. Conventional turkeys are actually grossly mis-proportioned because they are systematically bred to have the biggest breasts possible (everyone's favorite part... except me). Their breasts are so big they can't even stand up or walk. Turkey production is so messed up that almost no one raises turkeys that are reproduced the old-fashioned way. Instead, humans have to artificially inseminate the lady turkeys. (For more information, check out this article, or read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle). This sounds pretty awful and I wanted Hank to have a happy and full life. So as a result, his breasts were significantly smaller than a conventional turkey's breasts and so the section of the turkey that typically takes longest to cook because it's so big didn't take as long for Hank.

So about 45 minutes later when everything else was finally under wraps, Hank sat patiently waiting for more attention. We stuck him back in the oven for 15 minutes or so to warm him back up, and I think this ultimately led to his slight drying out. He wasn't dry dry, but he wasn't as juicy and tender as my dad's turkeys. A work in progress and not too bad for a first attempt, if I do say so myself.

After we took Hank back out of the oven, I drained the leftover turkey juice into the sauce pan and started adding flour. I was going very slowly and patiently, adding flour little by little. Once it got nice and thick, I added some water. This is about when I realized I should've been alternating flour and water, because it started getting even thicker. So I basically had a brown paste with a mild gravy flavor. Once I got it back to an appropriate consistency, I salted the bejeezus out of it and called it good. Not the best gravy ever, but passable. And again, now I know for next time.

Looks like gravy to me

Then after everyone showed up, we had a lovely meal:

My excellent carving job (I had no idea what I was doing)

 Deviled Eggs, Stuffing, Cranberry Sauce, and Sweet Potato Casserole

Persimmon and Chocolate Bread Pudding

Made-from-scratch Pumpkin Pie 

So in the end, it wasn't perfect, but it was delicious and rewarding. Everyone enjoyed everything and had a good time hanging out. It was definitely a learning experience, and I'm excited for my next big holiday so I can show off my mad skillz (Easter, anyone?).

Cooking Failures and Triumphs, Part 2

So while I was making my hot cross buns, I had a little accident.

I was busily trying to mix up the dough with my hand mixer and I was getting frustrated because the dough was much sturdier than say, cake batter, and it kept sticking to my mixers. So I upped the speed and tried to get it to mix better. Then the batter began creeping even further up my mixers until it seeped into the innards of my hand mixer.

Long story short, RIP hand mixer.

Basically it overheated (luckily right as I was about to call it quits anyway), and then it wouldn't start back up again. I was even so crafty as to pull out the screwdriver and take the damn thing apart to clean out the dough that got stuck in there. I think I did a pretty good job and got it back together (minus a couple of washers that I have no idea where they came from), but it was too late. My mixer was done for.

This was exceptionally problematic because I had plans to make homemade pizza and banana bread later that day too and I now had no mixer. So I texted the hubby and this was roughly our conversation:

Me:"How much can I spend on a new mixer? Cause I just broke ours :( (i.e., Wal-Mart or Younkers mixer?)
Him: "Depends. What kind? The big stand one or hand one?"
(At this point I'm thinking, "What stand one?")
Me: "Hand one. Where's the stand one?"
Me: "Never mind, the hand one is the stand one. So can I buy a nice one or not?"

Didn't really get an answer before I dropped three Ben Franks on a gorgeous new 5-quart KitchenAid stand mixer. But my logic is that I would've gotten one eventually anyway, so might as well buy it now (while it was on sale, no less!).

So, not the end of the world, but definitely an avoidable hit to the bank account.

But what, you ask, was this week's triumph?

Duh. You have to ask?

Getting to set my food on fire was way fun and I felt like a super cool, expert chef. No lies. This topped my successful banana bread remake, the fabulously delicious and easy homemade pizza, and figuring out how to scald milk. Hands down.

Alright, I think I've updated enough for today. More to come soon I think.

This Week's Cooking Failures and Triumphs

I'm not sure if this will be any kind of weekly segment, but probably something I will do every now and then. I had a couple epic moments in the kitchen this week and I think they need to be shared, so that everyone can behold my incredible feats and my egregious defeats.

First, the bad. As I mentioned in my last post, my husband had a little accident when we last made red velvet cake, and ended up dropping half the batter on the floor. Here is the story:

We made the batter together and then I made plans with my sister. So once the batter was made, my husband was supposed to put the cakes in the oven and we'd make the frosting and frost the cakes after I got back. As I'm about to step out the door, I hear the two dreaded sounds no one wants to hear come from the kitchen: *CLUNK* and *insert string of profanities here*

I step back in to find a huge glob of red batter in the middle of the floor. My husband had been wiping the edge of the pan where we'd spilled some batter. While doing so, he had accidentally moved the pan to the edge of the table and when he let go, it tipped over to its doom.

From my perspective, I had left him alone for one minute in the kitchen and disaster struck, and out of sheer shock I said a few things that I probably shouldn't have. I left the house before more unwarranted comments escaped my fiery lips.

Then my comeuppance came. On Monday, I was under the weather but made plans to go to my internship anyway around 1 PM. Before that I decided to go to the grocery store because we were getting low on the essentials. When I got back and began putting things away, I realized that we still had the ingredients for mango salsa and it needed to get made sooner rather than later. I looked at the clock (it was about noon) and decided I had enough time to make it before my internship and then I could pack it for lunch to take to work after my internship. So I pulled out the ingredients and began making it. To get an idea, here is the recipe (however, I was making somewhere between 1.5 and 2 batches at the time):

1 medium mango, seeded, peeled, and diced
2 Hatch chili peppers, seeded and diced (when these aren't in season, I use 2-3 jalapenos)
1/4 cup diced red pepper (about 1/2 of a pepper)
1/4 cup diced red onion (about 1/2 of an onion)
2 t. chopped cilantro
1 t. lime juice
1 t. olive oil
1/4 t. salt

Combine and serve on meats such as pork, poultry, or fish. It's also great in a breakfast quesadilla**. I got the recipe from the grocery store and am absolutely in love with it.

So, I seeded, peeled, and diced the mangoes. Then I seeded and diced the jalapenos. Then I seeded and diced the red pepper. Then I cut up the red onion. I put all of the tiny little chunks into a container with a lid and began shaking it to mix them all together.

Then, the lid came off.

And the next thing I know, the last 45 minutes of my life were sprawled all over the floor, wasted.

All I could do was stand there and stare at the huge mess I'd just made. I was so sick and tired and upset I couldn't even cry, but believe me, I wanted to. I kept staring at all my hard work, willing myself to come up with a way to fix everything. I seriously considered throwing it all in the strainer and just giving it a really good wash. But I finally accepted that it was hopeless, scooped up my all my effort, and threw it in the garbage.

I texted my husband to tell him what happened and that I knew exactly how he felt after he dropped the cake. Though I lost everything and he only lost half his work, I was at least fortunate enough be without anyone to say awful things to me when it was all said and done.

In the end, I had just enough time to throw some salmon in the crock pot before I left for my internship, so I still had dinner made, but it was probably my most tragic moment in the kitchen to date.

Yesterday though, I triumphed. I have a few recipes that call for a whole chicken and I really enjoy making them. The Honey-Basted Chicken I made yesterday can be found here, but I make a few changes. First, I just use whatever potatoes I have on hand and skip the sweet potato altogether. It's worked pretty well. Second, I don't really measure anything in this recipe, I just kind of estimate it pretty liberally. Third, I have yet to buy kitchen string, so I haven't been tying the legs and no one's been the wiser.

Now, when I bought whole chickens at the regular grocery store, the neck and giblets were already removed, so I didn't really understand this whole nonsense about removing it. Further, I wasn't really sure what giblets were, because we pretty much exclusively bought boneless skinless breasts at my house. So when I started buying whole chickens at the co-op grocery store, I found that the neck and giblets were still very much attached to the chicken. I found the giblets while I was acting incredibly grown-up and making my chicken dance around like it does in old Looney Tunes cartoons, when the giblets unexpectedly dropped out of... you know where.

The last time I tried to cut out the neck, I really had no idea what I was doing, and I ultimately cut most of the back of the chicken off. I knew this couldn't be the right way to do it because I've gotten whole chickens with a back and no neck before. There has to be a way to keep the back intact, I thought.

***NOTE: THE REST OF THIS STORY (AND PICTURES) ARE NOT FOR THE WEAK. STOP READING NOW.***

So this time, I again did no research and began playing with my chicken to figure out how to get this blasted neck out. I grasped the end of the neck and began pulling it around, willing it to wriggle loose and slide right out.

And then it happened.

It didn't just slide right out, but it did loosen its grip on the rest of the chicken. I wriggled it some more and it loosened again. I grabbed a knife and started sticking it inside the chicken to cut some of the pieces that were holding onto the neck and spine.

Slowly but surely, the neck began it lose its grip on the chicken. I began pulling it out the top of the chicken and the chicken began trying to turn itself inside out, but was still remaining more or less intact. I got to the point where I could stick my hand inside the neck hole and break the neck's grip on the legs. Once I disconnected the legs, I managed to wriggle the neck and some of the ribbing right out. A bit was still left in there, and I went after some of it, but I managed to get out the majority of it without severely damaging the appearance of the bird.

Here are my treasures:

Not the best picture and very horror-film-esque, but the spine is that big thing on the right, the giblets are the dark blobs on the bottom left, and the pink-ish stuff on the left is the saggy lady bits (Both of my giblet-ed chicken have had really droopy lady parts for some reason unbeknown to me, so I cut off the extra parts). At the top left is one of the thigh bones I pulled out kind of on accident.

And here is my happy but spineless chicken:

Note its casual yet mildly sassy pose.

I think it may have been easier to pull everything out of the big opening where the droopy lady bits reside rather than the much smaller neck hole, so I'll probably try that next time, but this was still a big success in my book.

The recipe is delicious (my favorite part is hands down the potatoes), but one problem I've had over and over is that my whole kitchen fills up with smoke while its cooking. To the point where I have to open my back door and my kitchen windows and run a fan or two and my smoke detector probably went off. The bird gets a little blackened from the honey glaze, but the smoke starts before that even. I think it may have something to do with the bird juices, and maybe I just need to do a better job of not spilling them all over the pan or maybe that's what tying up the legs stops from happening. So this may be a better recipe for later spring when the doors and windows all already open, but I'm gonna keep making it and maybe one day figure out how to avoid the whole smoky house problem. But that'll just have to be a triumph for another week.

**Breakfast Quesadilla Recipe (1-2 servings)
Mix 1/3(ish) cup of mango salsa with 2-3 eggs and scramble.
Grill one tortilla and sprinkle shredded cheese over whole tortilla.
Once cheese is melty, add salsa egg mixture to one half of the tortilla.
Add crumbled bacon (about 2 slices) on top of egg mixture.
Fold over empty tortilla half. Remove from grill, cut and serve with sour cream.