Pepper Chicken with Hummus: Best Quick Dinner Ever!

It’s been a while since I’ve run a recipe, and this is one of my favorites, especially for a quick, easy dinner…perhaps if you’d like to spend more time writing than cooking, but still absolutely must have something delicious for dinner.  This recipe is from Gourmet magazine, a publication still beloved to me and still SORELY missed; in fact, I will never forgive the world for shutting it down. 

I’ve added some of my notes in an effort to be “helpful”; in general, it’s a very forgiving recipe:  I never really measure the spices, I use as much chicken as there is in the package I’ve bought; I often throw in an extra cubanelle pepper or two; I’ve used Anaheim chiles and/or jalapenos when I couldn’t find cubanelles (which are also called “Hungarian wax peppers” at my grocery store...or maybe they really are different peppers?).  And I bet vegetarians could make this without the chicken and be perfectly happy...the peppers are great.

Pepper Chicken with Hummus

Serves 4 (and leftovers keep well)

Ingredients

1/3 cup olive oil (I actually use only about ¼ cup)

¾ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon ground cumin

½ teaspoon black pepper

¼ teaspoon dried oregano, crumbled

1 ½ lb skinless boneless chicken breasts and/or thighs, cut into 2 ½ inch pieces (I’ve never tried thighs)

1 red bell pepper, cut lengthwise into ½ inch-wide strips

1 Italian frying or Cubanelle pepper, cut lengthwise into ½ inch-wide strips (these are light green, longish, and thinnish; see note above)

1 medium red onion, peeled and cut lengthwise into ½ inch-wide strips

1 8-10 oz container prepared hummus (preferably Sabra spicy)

Toasted pita bread (I use wheat; a good brand makes a difference)

Directions

Preheat broiler.  Line a large, shallow baking pan with foil. (I use a very large, rimmed cookie sheet, and I spray the foil with Pam.)

Stir together oil, salt, cumin, pepper, and oregano in a large bowl, then toss with chicken and vegetables.  Arrange in baking pan without crowding and broil 4-6 inches from heat, stirring once, until chicken is just cooked through and vegetables are lightly charred, about 8 minutes.

Divide hummus among plates and top with chicken and vegetables.

Yum!!!!!

Celebrating "Work-in-Progress" Week!

It’s Work-in-Progress Week!  Thanks to the fabulous Beth Kephart, writers are posting a little something from their current works-in-progress…on blogs, Facebook, tumblr, twitter, wherever.  (The best thing about starting something new is no hard and fast rules...this started as a day and has become a week!)  While I’m not talking much at the moment about what I’ve been working on, I would like to offer this tiny taste, the opening to a short story.

Thank you, Beth, for rallying us and for being, always, the very definition of a generous, supportive, nurturing writer.  Here’s what she wrote on her blog today:

Yesterday, in response to a query from Ilie Ruby, I posted a few lines from a novel in progress and then invited all my Facebook writer friends to do the same. I wanted to shatter, for that one day at least, the loneliness that can stem from writing. I wanted to celebrate those who had published and those who will soon publish—to make it clear that we are all of the same yearning community, no barriers between us.

Oh, there is one real rule for Work-in-Progress Week, and that is to encourage others to post something.  So please do! Sound your barbaric yawp and let the world see what you're up to!

                                                                             

A LITTLE SOMETHING-SOMETHING

By Leslie Pietrzyk                                              

            Kate would not remind the Bakers that the day of her visit was also her birthday.  It was probably bad enough that she was visiting, their dead son’s wife, showing up to—what?  Remind them that David was still dead?

            He had died in a boating accident in June, four months ago, and this visit to the Bakers—planned in conjunction with her conference in DC—had been in the works before that, since May.  The plan was that David would join her.  Now it was October.  Now David was dead.  Since the Bakers knew about the trip, she felt trapped into seeing them.  One night, Kate told herself, a few drinks, dinner, coffee.   Nothing more.

            The Bakers lived in Alexandria, Virginia, an historic town about seven miles from Washington.  Grady, the father, owned a heating and oil company and had served two terms on the city council.  Josie, the mother, ran things:  Garden Week, the Junior League, a Siamese cat rescue group.  Several years ago she had taken up cooking in a fierce way and now talked about opening a specialty cookie bakery.  There were four sisters, all of whom lived in nearby suburbs, all orbited by an assortment of husbands, ex-husbands, partners, and children. David, Kate’s husband, was the baby of the family, with thirteen years between himself and his oldest sister. 

            The funeral service was the last time Kate had seen the Bakers, when they had descended upon Grinnell, the small college town in Iowa where Kate taught economics.  The family trooped through en masse, as if a tour group with an itinerary, eager to see the sites of David’s life:  house, car, cat, grocery store, where he planted tomatoes, the Wednesday night poker friends, the coffee house where he hosted monthly poetry readings.  She didn’t want to think unkind things—after all, they had lost their son and brother and uncle—but there was something so noisy about the Bakers and the way they encompassed space, as if they felt entitled to much more of it than anyone else.  Kate’s own family was small and quiet, people who proudly stayed in the background, preferring the margins. ...

How to Write Book Reviews

Ever think about writing book reviews?  Cathy Day offers this excellent interview with author/reviewer David Walton that gives an overview of the basics, including what percentage of a book review can be spent on “showing off.”

Here’s an excerpt:

Writing a polished review is a demanding writing exercise. It takes me two days to get those 450 words. Sometimes I labor over an opening paragraph or two for a couple of hours, then pitch it out. And believe me, there’s a lot to check in 450 words–use the word excellent twice, or any word, and it stands out.

Read on.

Writing Retreats: The Sun Magazine (scholarships available!) and Rehoboth Beach

Two upcoming writing retreats of note:

The Sun in North Carolina

Into the Fire: The Sun Celebrates Personal Writing
Wildacres Retreat, Little Switzerland, North Carolina
April 26 – April 28, 2013  

Into the Fire
The Sun Celebrates Personal Writing

To write about ourselves in a way that touches others and reminds them of our fundamental connectedness we must be willing to take a leap — with all our passion, fear, and longing — into the fire.

Since 1974, The Sun has published the kind of brave, revealing writing that lives up to the magazine’s motto, a line from concentration-camp survivor Viktor Frankl: “What is to give light must endure burning.” We invite you to join Sun readers, authors, and staff for a weekend of investigating our lives through the written word. We’ll discuss essays, fiction, and poems with their authors, who will lead exercises geared to bring forth similar elements in your own writing. Readers Write–style writing sessions will help get your pen moving. (You don’t have to be a writer to attend. We create a space in which people can tell their stories from the heart.) The weekend will conclude with editor and publisher Sy Safransky reading from his Notebook.

Of course, the best part of a Sun gathering is getting to meet everyone: writers, staff, and other people who love the magazine and share its compassionate, unflinching view of the world. We hope you’ll join us.

General information:  http://thesunmagazine.org/get_involved/events

Scholarships:  http://thesunmagazine.org/get_involved/events/21#scholarships

***

Thanks to Rebecca for sending along information about this writing retreat in lovely Rehoboth Beach, where I recently spent 10 days:

Registration: Write Time, Write Place, Write Now (WTWPWN)

Friday – Sunday • March 15 – 17, 2013 • Royal Rose Inn, Rehoboth, Delaware

For more information, go here.  

(Please note that I have never attended this conference and do not know the organizer, so I’m merely passing along this very intriguing info…though I will definitely vouch for the general fabulousness of Rehoboth Beach!)

Catching Up...

…on Redux:

A great story by Kim Church about love and the TV show Columbo…yes, really!

“After the hurricane, when our cable service was finally restored, we began picking up channels we hadn’t paid for.  It’s been months now and the company still hasn’t caught on.  My husband feels guilty, but I tell him to look at it this way: we’ve been given a gift, the best kind, one we didn’t expect or deserve, and we should make the most of it, especially since we know it can’t last forever.  The truth is, I don’t want to lose my Columbo reruns.  One of our new stations plays two Columbos every Monday morning and one on Thursdays, and I’ve been taping them all….”

 

Read more.

And a new poem today about silent movies by Adam Vines:

…The yellowing Friday Photoplays burn,

the women’s I dos and I can’ts engraved

in their expressions on the covers--words

their lost, soft tongues never had to crave. …

Read more.

Back at the Beach

I snuck home for one night to watch the Super Bowl—yay, Ravens!—but here I am again, for several more days.  I’m not tired of looking at the ocean every day.  I’m also not tired of oysters, having had some excellent Golden Sweets at Henlopen Oyster House.  While I could have easily eaten another half dozen, there is something so decadent—even by my standards—about eating more than six, so I had steamed shrimp instead, which were the best steamed shrimp I’ve ever had!  Perfectly cooked, plump, spiced with gobs of whole spices and onions…it’s also decadent to have a second bowl of steamed shrimp, so I headed home afterwards.  But I’m sure I’ll be back!

On Sunday, I watched the Polar Bear Plunge—several thousand people running into the ocean in bathing suits, followed quickly by several thousand people running out of the ocean, many of them screaming. 

I also had some wonderful craft cocktails with house-infused bourbon at East of Eden and delicious fried calamari.  On the other end of the spectrum, I went to the fabulous, definitely unfancy Arena’s and had “Delaware’s Best Nachos.”  I got the small order, which was about six inches tall, eight inches wide, with at least a cup of sour cream on top.

Reading, writing, thinking…the days here pass with a quiet intensity.

Winter Beach

I’ve been staying at Rehoboth Beach in Delaware for the past few days, focusing on my writing in quiet solitude (literally—no TV!). The ocean is a two minute walk away, and now I know what would motivate me to exercise happily every single day…an ocean two minutes away!  I can imagine nothing more pleasant than to take a walk along the shore every single day. Since that’s not something that will be happening in the near future, I’ll just enjoy what I have for the next week.

Also two minutes away is downtown Rehoboth, which in the summer is packed with people and the fried-sweet-sugary-coconuty scent of sun-screened families wolfing down French fries and taffy, but which now feels almost post-apocalyptic, with boarded storefronts and stray wanderers on empty, wide sidewalks and street parking galore.  (Okay, if the post-apocalypse includes a lot of people walking dogs.)

I love it!  There was even snow this morning, about an inch, that was absolutely lovely!

Have no fear, there are restaurants open, even enough so that it’s stressful to make hard decisions, if one is trying not to eat like a P-I-G.  So far I’ve had steak tacos at happy hour at Dos Locs Stone Grill, happy hour tapas at Café Azafran (who knew green beans could be so delicious?!), oysters on the half shell at Fins, and a great Italian sub at Touch of Italy.

Big night tonight as Grotto Pizza will finally be open; I’ve been desperate for Grotto Pizza!!!!  It doesn’t help that there are branches everywhere I walk…all shuttered, all mocking me.

On Saturday, Fisher’s will be open, so there are plans for caramel corn in my future.

Oh, yes, the work…that, too, is going well.  I sorted 10,000 scraps of paper.  I read all the pages I have written over the past eighteen months.  I have a new title that—fingers crossed—is perfect.  And I have a glimmer of the path ahead with this manuscript.  Just a glimmer, yes, but I’m trying to be patient and assume that the path will open to me soon.  All things cannot be perfect, even here at the beach.