Crispy Baked Chicken

My days of making multi-step, fancy ingredient meals are gone. Three kids, a part-time job, and homeschooling have sucked every Julia Child cell out of my body. Now I'm more like Rachel Ray. On crack.

This recipe can be prepped and in the oven in less than five minutes. The hardest part of this recipe is remembering to thaw the chicken.

Crispy Baked Chicken

6 whole boneless skinless chicken breast halves 

1 cup Italian style bread crumbs

3 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese

2 tablespoons melted margarine or butter

Place chicken breasts in a greased baking dish. Sprinkle (to coat one side) with the bread crumbs and Parmesan cheese. Dot with butter. Bake at 375 degrees for 30 minutes or until juices run clear. 6 servings.

I like to serve this with a 50/50 mixture of mayonnaise and BBQ sauce.

More recipes over at Ann's Food on Fridays and the Grocery Cart Challenge Recipe Swap. 

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Beethoven's Wig

I grew up with music in the home. Beach Boys via record, Lawrence Welk on TV, and Roger Miller in the tape deck.

So obviously, my musical taste is EXQUISITE.

Hubs made a short attempt in college to refine me. It was futile. He would mumble something about "classical" not being a generic term for all "elevator music," but that it represents a time period zzzzzzz in music history, listen to the sound of me not caring, excuse me while I fall asleep in your Braharms.

Music majors.

During our early years of marriage, I took the opportunity to clean house, and by "clean house," I mean, "got rid of HIS junk."

Including most of those "classical" CDs.

Awesome.

Especially now that it's time to pass on a musical heritage to my kids.

Fortunately, the library has saved my ever-widening butt. I've even found a set of CDs that mix Hubs' classy taste with my love for, well, nonsense.

Introducing: Beethoven's Wig (♫)

Oh, people. I'm a sucker for cleverly-written (often humorous) lyrics. All the songs on the Beethoven's Wig CDs are set to the tune of symphonies, and get this--actually teach something about the piece of music.

I KNOW.

BRILLIANT.

Best of all, I can listen along with the kids without desiring to stab my eardrums.

MMM-HMM.

Here are the CDs currently available:

• Beethoven's Wig: Sing Along Symphonies

• Beethoven's Wig, Vol. 2: More Sing-Along Symphonies

• Beethoven's Wig 3: Many More Sing-Along Symphonies

• Beethoven's Wig 4: Dance Along Symphonies

In the interest of full disclosure, no one asked me to promote these CDs. But if you do click those links and buy something on the amazon site, I get a minuscule percentage of the purchase. The earnings I receive by being an affiliate help feed my family addiction of throwing pennies in a fountain twice a year.

You can check out the full list of Beethoven's Wig CDs and then send that link to your wealthy relatives. Wealthy relatives who happen to have a penchant for classical music with some zany lyrics thrown on top.

Okay. Tell me a little tidbit about your experience with classical ("classical") music.


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In Pursuit Of Greek Geekdom

I drag my family all over town in an attempt to knock some items off my bucket list. For now all I can afford are the cheap things. Like breathing. Which, ironically enough, is keeping me alive until I can jet set off to Greece once a year.

Not that that's a goal, mind you. If there's any "Greece" on my bucket list it's likely involving the pursuit of a bacon burger and some fries.

Never said I was high-class, people.

But about that bucket load of free stuff. Let's go.

On our recent "Ramona tour" of the city, Hubs remarked to me at the end: "How come every item on your bucket list makes me want to kick the bucket?"

What a kidder.

But once he forgot about the ninety-minute walking tour that happened to occur during the dinner hour after a long work day in his dress shoes and (and!) with three small children--I got to planning our next outing: a local Greek Festival.

When we got there the place was packed. Crazy packed. Tents and food and booze (see: "packed") and everything else you'd expect at a cultural event.

We decided to take the road less traveled and head inside the Greek Orthodox Cathedral that was hosting the event.

We entered the narthex, where we saw "BE QUIET" and "BE RESPECTFUL" signs posted all around. Of course, my three-year-old can't read, nor can she be quiet or respectful...so when she saw a row of lit candles she immediately hollered out, "BURF-DAY CAKE!!!"

 I apologized. In Greek.

"I'm sorry-o, we're idiots-o, pi are squared, amen."

So we took our entertaining little selves out of the holy place for a bit, and focused on some of this:

Hubs was quick to train the kids on a few Greek dance moves. Which of course were mostly GEEK dance moves. Of that we are pros.

But then I herded the sheep back to the church for the Saturday night vesper service. The greeter lady had kindly (and quietly!) mentioned to me earlier that "my son will be singing in the choir...and I'd love to have you come."

Of course when I heard the word "choir," I immediately envisioned a concert by a group of people, singing four-part harmony in an acoustically wonderful room.

I was wrong.

(See: "Id-i-ot-o.")

Singing in the "choir" meant where he was going to be singing. Not who he was going to be singing with. (Which, when I added it all up, was basically no one.)

It didn't take too long into the service to realize that the young man who was sing-talking in Greek was the greeter lady's son.

The Alpha and the Omegabet indeed!

Surprisingly, the kids were well-behaved during the 20 minutes of service we sat through. Our family's religious tradition tends far more on the casual side of things, so the kids had never experienced anything even closely resembling an "orthodox" style of service. Everything was new: the icons, the chants, the "foot rests" at their feet.

But it was the deacon carrying the censer that caught their attention the most. Mine too, for that matter. I'd never seen anything like it--the censer he carried had twelve jingling bells, burning coals, smoke and a strong smell of incense. And he walked down the aisle! And shook the thing right at us!

That shut us up.

I plan to talk through the experience with my kids once I understand it a bit more myself. (*sheepish grin*) But what always amazes me is how much faster it is to learn something by experiencing it. My seven-year-old has heard the word "orthodox" several times before, but it's meant nothing to him. Not anymore. That word now has several memories connected to it--personal ones.

And all that learning was for free. Ten minutes from home. Supersauce.

Now when I planned our trip to the Greek Festival, I hadn't even known that the service was a part of it. I was mostly going for the food--and ended up bringing home a container of this:

Yep. Greek pastries. "Cavity creators." (Baklava, diples, kataifi, kourabiedes, melomakarona, pasta flora, and rolla.) We divvied each of them up into small bits for us to try, and ate ourselves into a bona fide sugar buzz. Followed shortly by a sugar bust.

Which the kids will no doubt remember, and associate closely with nut-filled and honey-soaked goodies.

Regardless. We enjoyed our outing to the festival. Even if it was all Greek to me.

Anyone have a Greek cuisine or cultural story to share?

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