Rebellion in the Kitchen

I've realized something. I am not destined to be a successful cooking blogger and there is a very good reason for that. When I cook, I don't follow the recipes. I leave some ingredients out, I make up my own substitutions, I skip around and do things however I like.

Which is all well and good, in the privacy of my own kitchen. But when it comes to sharing this mayhem with an eager audience, I am probably a little too unpredictable for anyone else's own good.

Take, for example, my recent batch of orange chicken. After convincing my daughters that I can make orange chicken just as well as Panda Express can, I decided it would be fun to write about how to make this delicious Asian treat. I found a hopeful recipe, made the dish twice to be sure the recipe worked, then set out to make it a third time this week, with the camera on standby to record the whole thing.

Sadly, I neglected to follow the recipe. I improvised. I made parts up. I refused to measure. 

But despite my renegade approach, I really encourage you to make orange chicken. This is a great recipe and I think if you follow it, it will turn out just fine. Heck, I didn't follow it...and it still turned out just fine. I'll do my best to walk you through the process.

First, make the marinade. Here are the official directions from the recipe:

1. Pour 1 1/2 cups water, orange juice, lemon juice, rice vinegar, and soy sauce into a saucepan and set over medium-high heat. Stir in the orange zest, brown sugar, ginger, garlic, chopped onion, and red pepper flakes. Bring to a boil. Remove from heat, and cool 10 to 15 minutes.
2. Place the chicken pieces into a resealable plastic bag. When contents of saucepan have cooled, pour 1 cup of sauce into bag. Reserve the remaining sauce. Seal the bag, and refrigerate at least 2 hours.

Well, I started strong. I measured the water, I eyeballed the orange juice, I had some fresh squeezed lemon juice in the fridge but I spilled most of it as I was getting it out. Alas. I was out of rice vinegar and white vinegar so I substituted apple cider vinegar, and used teriyaki sauce instead of plain soy sauce. 

Orange zest? Check. But I didn't measure it and probably added extra. I love orange zest. I did fine on the brown sugar, ginger, and garlic; I skipped the chopped (green) onion because I forgot to buy it, and I went heavy on the red pepper flakes. 

I put my chicken and marinade into this round bowl, because I use plastic bags very rarely. (Yo, Earth Day alert: our landfills don't need any more plastic bags than are absolutely necessary.) I definitely did not wait for the sauce to cool, I poured every drop into the bag rather than hold back a reserve, and I let it sit for about 24 hours, a full 22 hours longer than directed.

Do you see what I mean? I am a highly rebellious cook. Whatever. 

Anyway, a day later, I popped open the top of my marinated chicken and it smelled fabulous. Bracing myself for the icky part, I fished out the bits of boneless chicken and cut them into serving size pieces. Hmm, then I noticed that the recipe told me to do that before I marinated them. Don't worry, it's fine.

Alright, ready for the next direction:

3. In another resealable plastic bag, mix the flour, salt, and pepper. Add the marinated chicken pieces, seal the bag, and shake to coat.

Sorry, still not going to break down and use a plastic bag. I just tossed my flour into a tall-sided bowl, shook in salt and pepper according to my instincts, and used a pair tongs to flop the chicken about. Worked like a charm. 

4. Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Place chicken into the skillet, and brown on both sides. Drain on a plate lined with paper towels, and cover with aluminum foil.

I do not measure olive oil into a pan. I pour it sparingly, but measure it? Sorry, that's not going to happen. I live on the edge.

I used finger tongs to drop the chicken into the pan. Food that has been touched by human hands tastes like love. Proven fact.

Not really. But we all know it's true.

"Drain on a plate liked with paper towels, and cover with aluminum foil?" 

No and no. I use paper grocery bags for absorption duties on cookies, fried foods and the like; I just rip them open and lay them flat on the counter with the clean insides of the bag facing up. When I'm done, they go into the compost.  No cost, no waste.

Sirius appointed himself guardian of the fried bits. I promptly demoted him and threw him off the chair. 

In between all that, I was pulling together a made-up version of fried rice. 

That's nasi goreng in Kelate. Just saying. 

First, I chopped up half an onion, and tossed it into my cast iron skillet with a generous pour of packaged coleslaw. Yes, you know how you can buy those bags of chopped green cabbage with bits of red cabbage and carrots? I had some on hand and it seemed like a perfect shortcut for veggies in my rice. With another practiced but unmeasured pour of olive oil, in the veggies went to a hot oven.

I put on a small pot of white rice - I didn't measure it out exactly because it was the end of my supply so I just used it all. I think it was about a cup of uncooked rice. As soon as the rice was ready, I poured it into the skillet with the partially cooked vegetables, stirred it all up, and slid it back in for more cooking time.

Is this the proper way to make fried rice? I don't know. Probably not. But it looked fairly legit and you can't really go wrong with veggies and rice. I moved on to the next dish.

What could be a better fit with orange chicken than...oranges? I'm a fan of simple fruit dishes and this orange salad doesn't get any easier. 

Peel oranges.

Slice.

Put in bowl. 

As the chicken finished browning up and the fried rice was working magic in the oven, I tackled the last official step of the recipe.

5. Wipe out the skillet, and add the sauce. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Mix together the cornstarch and 2 tablespoons water; stir into the sauce. Reduce heat to medium low, add the chicken pieces, and simmer, about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

My skillet was still busy frying chicken, so I rinsed out the saucepan from the rice and used that. I eyeballed the cornstarch and water, and whisked it into the boiling sauce, but I didn't add the chicken. Common sense dictates that dumping the chicken bits into the sauce and then stirring them up will knock off all the yummy bits of crispy coating. That is not going to happen on my watch, people.

Instead, I served the chicken and sauce separately, allowing each person sauce the chicken to their individual heart's content. 

Despite my kitchen rebellion, the meal came together beautifully. I highly recommend this recipe to you; whether you follow it to the letter or let your culinary instincts take charge, I am sure you will end up with a delicious feast.