I got such good results with my Chicken Cordon Bleu, I thought I would invent a recipe for Chicken Florentine.
I learned a long time ago from Mr. Food (may he rest in peace) that “florentine” means “with spinach.” I’ve made Mr. Food’s recipe for Steak Florentine. I’ve eaten Eggs Florentine at a Chauncey’s Restaurant in Vermont. I could get silly and say the old Popeye cartoons were Violence Florentine, but, you know, I used to like those. My sisters and I would sing the Popeye song every time our mother fixed spinach.
Where was I? Ah yes, inventing a recipe. We preheated the oven to 350 degrees. Steven put in potatoes to bake (he was helping me cook because of my bad ankle) (see yesterday’s post).
I grated some mozzarella cheese (not as much as I grated for the Cordon Bleu, because I did not intend to make a cheese sauce). Once again, I did not pound the boneless skinless thighs (once again, instead of breasts), but sliced them so that I could kind of sort of fold them open. I put cheese, spinach and baby portobello mushrooms on them (I bought the pre-washed, pre-sliced mushrooms. I’m not too lazy to slice, but it is such a pain to wash mushrooms) (and I used fresh spinach, although I suppose the frozen kind would work just as well). I folded the chickens over and rolled them in breadcrumbs as best I could.
A word about the breadcrumbs. I normally buy the Italian Seasoned, but when I shopped on Sunday, I noticed 4C were made in Brooklyn, NY (Hannaford puts out helpful signs telling you these things). They were “Seasoned” not “Italian Seasoned,” but when I read the ingredients, it looked to me like they used all the same stuff. I thought, why quibble over an adjective? I went with the New York State brand.
One further note: I saw the word “wheat gluten” in the ingredients, too, and made a mental note not to use breadcrumbs in anything I may fix for my friend Phyllis. I have become more aware of gluten since I found out Phyllis has Celiac’s. Is that a HIPPA violation to mention that? Oh dear.
After I got the chicken in the oven I put some spinach and mushrooms in a casserole dish, drizzled olive oil over them, sprinkled on a little lemon pepper, garlic power and minced onion (oh, stop shaking your purist gourmet fingers at me! I’m sure garlic powder and dehydrated onions are perfectly respectable), and tossed it with a bamboo spoon and fork (just to give you an accurate picture). I did not put that in the oven till the last ten minutes or so.
As a matter of fact, Steven put them in. I set the timer for twenty minutes, showered, then flipped the chicken while Steven poked the potatoes. I set the timer for a second twenty minutes and left Steven with instructions to check things again, decide how much longer it needed, and put the spinach/mushroom mixture in for the last ten minutes or so. Then I went upstairs and started writing yesterday’s blog post (which I composed at the computer. Today I am writing in a regular paper notebook on a break at work) (again, in the interests of an accurate picture).
Steven cooked the chicken and potatoes an additional ten minutes while the other vegetables cooked. The potatoes perhaps could have baked a little longer, but it was a yummy dinner. I felt pleased with myself. Perhaps I’m no Rachel Ray, but I do my best.
Mohawk Valley Girl 