I have a thing for peanut butter. I love the stuff. Crunchy or creamy is fine by me. It’s been one of my go-to quick fix meals for years, the classic peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Occasionally, it’s been banana, or honey, or marshmallow fluff. About the only jelly, jam, or preserve I’m not too fond of is orange marmalade. I generally prefer my bread toasted, so the peanut butter gets a little melty and gooey.

In the last few years, I’ve become more educated on ways to use peanut butter in a non-traditional manner, at least non-traditional for me. I already knew peanut butter is used in some asian dishes, but the first dish to really wow me was an african dish called Muamba. Now, a good friend of mine, Lynne, makes a killer version that utilizes a crockpot, and it’s always amazing! I’ve yet to attempt it, but I have the recipe saved on Food.com for future use. Soon, my precious, soon… More recently, I saved a go-to recipe for stir fry with a thai feel that uses peanut butter from Allrecipes.com. I change out the main ingredients, but the sauce always delivers each time I use it.

However, my two newest obsessions involve PB&J for breakfast, and peanut butter with something entirely unexpected for lunch. First, I had the brilliant idea to cook plain oatmeal, then toss in a spoonful of peanut butter and a spoonful of jelly to flavor it. Delicious! I’ve since done just peanut butter in an apple-cinnamon oatmeal and that’s outstanding as well. Plus the protein source adds additional health benefits to give me a great start to my day. Then, just a week or so ago, someone posted on FB an infographic of 15 different alternative toppings for a sandwich. So, on an adventurous whim, I tried topping my PB with a fried egg. I’ve done it twice since then; it’s that good. The salty peanut butter blends delightfully with the rich flavor of the egg. This one is definitely an “on-toast” prerequisite.. I’m sure I’ll do it again before the week is done.

As I expand my knowledge and palette, I’m learning more and more not to shoehorn ingredients into narrow categories, but to let myself experience some crazy combinations that I’d never had before. They don’t always work out, like the time I tried to wing it with a “mexican” spaghetti, but I’ll keep at it, and savor my successes. A few are bound to even end up here as original recipes from yours truly. Enjoy!

As I continue to try new things in the kitchen, I find myself facing many new firsts. There are still a great many things I’ve never tried before, such as making a soufflé, poaching eggs, or gutting a fish. (The first two will probably come up soon, but I’m in no hurry to try the third.) So I still have a lot of exploring to do.

One thing I hadn’t tried yet was cooking a whole chicken. I had no idea what to expect. I didn’t know if I’d have to scoop out giblets by hand, or if I would over or under cook it. So I waited till Cathy was available for questions, since I had seen her cook a whole turkey before, inside a brown paper bag no less. I figured she had to know what she was doing. I also found several promising recipes to pick from and reviewed those with her as well. As it would turn out, we had one of what I would call beginner chickens. The giblets were neatly tucked into a wax paper bag and the chicken included a… I don’t know the technical term so I’ll call it a popper. You know, those pre-inserted thermometers that pop when the bird is done. Very handy, but I’ll get to that in a moment.

After emptying the bird and rinsing it out, I left it to dry in the fridge, propped up on it’s tail for a few hours. I chose a lemon and herb roast recipe, because I have had pretty consistent success with roasting in the past, and the recipe’s seasoning mix included mustard powder, which I happened to have on hand. The mixture was sprinkled inside and out, and then the lemon juice and olive oil blend was drizzled over the whole thing. Popped it into the oven, and started my basting timer. The recipe said to let it cook for an hour and a half, but I wasn’t sure if I should trust that or the popper. A quick call to the sis-in-law confirmed the popper’s idiot-proofness, so after the hour and a half was up, I switched to ten minute basting intervals. Right around the two and a quarter hour mark, I finally got a pop and out it came. After 20 minutes rest and a masterful carving job by the wife and we ate like kings.

I don’t know what I’ll tackle next (maybe cornish hens?), but I eagerly anticipate each new adventure. After all, I may not be an expert at cooking a whole chicken, but that doesn’t mean I have to be one anymore. I just have to trust in my ability to comprehend instructions, and I should take courage in knowing that so many have paved the way in the kitchen before me. Thanks to them the whole experience of cooking truly can be a joy. Enjoy!

I had a particularly good shift at work last night. I made decent money despite the typical January slowdown, and I had fun with my tables. At one point I joked that I would open a restaurant called “Allen’s Hands” because I had them eating out of mine. I even won the contest for sales of the special surf and turf. Part of my prize was an order of the bone-in filet and horseradish crusted salmon, which I packed up to bring home.

This morning, I decided to take some of that meal and turn it into a delightful breakfast to get the day started properly. I diced up my side of asparagus and cut up the filet into bite-sized chunks. I added those to a batch of well-whisked eggs and made a tasty scramble. Still, the best was yet to come.

Over the years, I’ve eaten at many a restaurant offering classic ingredients and sauces that I’ve never attempted at home. One popular sauce that seemed almost magical was hollandaise. I always loved how it tasted, but I’d never made one. As I’ve been studying wine, I recently read how there are these restaurants in Alsace, France that open from April to June to only serve asparagus, often drizzled with hollandaise sauce. So, I decided I wanted to make a hollandaise sauce if I could to drizzle over the eggs.

Now, I’m quite certain hollandaise aficionados would be appalled at the thought of a version made in the microwave, but the recipe was quick and easy, and worked perfectly over the scramble, just as I’d hoped.

Sometimes, classics like a hollandaise sauce can take on an almost mythic quality until I’ve attempted to make it at home. Like any good magic trick, once you learn the secret, the trick is no less magical, but now I, too, can make the magic happen. For me, that’s what learning to cook is all about. Enjoy!