White Chicken Chili (Thanks to our girl Shauna)

Let the recipe adventures of 2014 - 2015 begin! First things first, just look at that Dutch Oven. Isn't it the most beautiful orange? My mom bought this for me last Christmas, I think in a subliminal attempt to nudge me toward domestication. Well, people, it's worth it, because pretty things in the kitchen make me want to cook (note also the yellow teakettle in the background). I feel super culinary chic with this on my stove. 

Next, look what's inside! It's super easy and pretty much just involves opening a few cans, cutting up some chicken, and, the most important part of your job as the cook, snacking on chips and salsa for the duration of the wait for the chili to simmer. I got this meal from Shauna Niequist's book/cookbook Bread and Wine, the source of many other planned experiments in the kitchen. This recipe isn't too hearty - it's definitely the kind of thing you put in a bowl and slowly add shredded cheese, cilantro, and tortilla chips to as you discuss the happenings of your day. It's not too thick, such that Brian officially dubbed it not a chili, but a "hearty soup." Duly noted, husband. I strongly recommend these thin cantina chips I found because they really remind me of the best chips ever, of course the ones from Chili's (I am so midwest and uncool, but I love me some Chili's). Want to know how to make it? Here's how!

1 pound of chicken (I used cut up boneless skinless chicken breasts from CostCo) in the bottom of your dutch oven or large pot and cook over medium heat for about 8 minutes. Then add in a 16-ounce container of salsa (you can probably tell from the pictures that I used a red salsa - next time I'm going to switch it up with a green variety). Throw in 4 cans of white beans (I used one can of chickpeas, simply because they reminded me of all of my meals in Spain, and it turned out well) and finish with 4 cups of chicken broth. Bring the whole shebang to a boil, and simmer for 30 minutes (or more) after that. 

I loved that the day I planned to make this happened to be the first rainy, sleety day of fall where you really wanted something you could stir, sprinkle cheese on, and dip super thin tortilla chips into while it steamed up and cleared your sinuses. 

Meals like these make me excited for chilly days when I walk in after work to an apartment smelling of whatever has been simmering in the crock pot all day. Not to mention walking in after work to the hottie in the plaid sitting at my kitchen table. 

R.I.P B.W.W

Mark this day. 

Tonight, Brian and I swore we would never again eat at a Buffalo Wild Wings together.

I agreed; it was time. 

This, coming from a girl who would happily join in the group of her friends on Thursday nights in college for cheap wings and friendship. It was a land flowing with ranch and Honey BBQ. Good times were had by all. Jokes were cracked. Memories were made. Passive voice was used by some. 

I'm not exactly sure what happened to the place between college and adulthood, but we stopped there for dinner tonight and let me say: it was bleak.

It all started when I got home from work. I was all set to begin dinner, but Brian (I love this guy) could detect that I was exhausted. Not really up for doing anything much after school tonight. He suggested I refrain from cooking and said we should go somewhere quick for dinner tonight, so I could take the night off from making us food. (Have I mentioned how much I love him?) 

So we're driving along, and there it is. B Dubs in all of its glory. There's a playoff baseball game tonight that Brian wanted to catch. So we kind of shrug at one another and say, "Let's give it a shot." 

First of all, is it just me, or does everyone look completely depressed in there?! We almost laugh out loud as we scan the room and see a dimly lit collection of people questioning their very purpose in this world. B Dubs was putting people through this kind of existential crisis: "Who am I?" "Why am I here?" "What meaning is there in this life if the highlight of my day is spent at this stale restaurant?" There are bored couples, blank-stare groups of buddies with mouths agape at television screens, and, the most heart-wrenching: the overwhelmed parents. There are kids everywhere screaming and crying with parents who look like all they need was a hug (and perhaps, more importantly, a cocktail). It's like one of those biblical "weeping and gnashing of teeth" scenarios everywhere you look. People with kids: I don't know how you do it. 

So we sit down. We are surrounded by SIXTEEN TELEVISIONS. On those televisions are preseason hockey, college women's volleyball, sports talk shows (with no audio, mind you), and soccer. Not one TV has the playoff baseball game. To make matters worse for Brian, the largest screen of them all, in the middle of the main dining room, is replaying Sunday's footage of the Philadelphia Eagle's loss. Guess what music is playing in the background. Creed. I'm not even joking you guys. This is rough. 

Then our food comes out, mainly microwaved and plastered to small little paper trays. Even our appetizer is prepared in this manner. Brian hypothesizes that there are no chefs at Buffalo Wild Wings, only Microwave Technicians. Perhaps this is cause for some investigatory journalism.

We finally get our food, eat, chat, watch a little baseball, and get out pretty quickly. Already on the ride home we feel all fuzzy in our brains and kind of sick to our stomachs. It was at this point when we make the vow: never again will this Whartnaby clan dine at B Dubs. 

B.W.W.  may you R.I.P. 

Reese Stewart

My friend Reese went out of her way a week ago to help me conquer one very important item off of my 24-before-25 list: bake a cake from scratch. Now, to the common girl, this may not seem like that big of an accomplishment. But alas, I had only ever dared to use a pre made box mix. She came over to my apartment, Trader Joe's bag and hand mixer in tow. She got the recipe from a cookbook produced by two hipster bakers in Brooklyn, so you knew it had to be good. Our end product was a chocolate-hazelnut-creamy-buttery-explosion-of-deliciousness.

I learned a few things that day. One, Reese is a baking genius. Two, the more butter, the better. Three, licking out the bowl of homemade batter is worth the extra effort. Gracias a mi hermana de una madre diferente por tu ayuda. It was a fun thing to accomplish.

The Master at work. 

The finished product. Nom. 

I cooked food.

It's kind of ridiculous how scarcely a full, nicely cooked meal happens in my life. The beginning of the year just drains my energy, leaving me at 5:00 void of creativity and effort. Last week I got fed up and decided that, dang it, I was going to make something. I asked my mom for a good idea and she suggested "Chicken Diane" which I love. Obviously, it wasn't quite as delicious when I made it as when my mom does, but it was nice to have a real meal. You want to make it? Here's how.

You will need:

4 large boneless skinless chicken breasts (I just got the tenders which has like 8 in a package)

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

2 Tablespoons olive oil

3 Tablespoons chopped green onions

Juice of one lime

2 Tablespoons of apple juice (or brandy if you're classy)

3 Tablespoons chopped parsley

2 teaspoons dijon mustard

1/2 cup of chicken broth

2 Tablespoons of butter

Then this is what you do: take out your anger on the chicken and tenderize those things until you're feeling an inner sense of calm again. Then you sprinkle it with the salt and pepper. Heat 1 T of the oil and 1 T of the butter in a big skillet. (Butter makes everything better.) Cook chicken on high heat for four minutes per side. After that, transfer to a warm serving platter and cover to keep warm. Now you have to make the sauce that you pour on top.

All the ingredients ready to go. 

Turn down the heat to medium and add the green onions, apple juice, parsley, and mustard to the pan. Whisk that together, then add the chicken broth. Add the remaining butter. (Remember, butter makes EVERYTHING better.) Pour that combination over the chicken. Oh, PS, you've made some linguini noodles, so put the chicken over those.. (For timing sake, turn on the heat to boil the water and then start doing the chicken on the stove, so they finish at about the same time.) Last but not least, cut up that lime and squeeze the juice over the chicken to be extra pretentious. 

After about 15 minutes of running around and flipping chicken and chopping things and trying not to burn yourself, voila! You have a delicious meal. You no longer feel like a college kid because a frozen pizza has not even materialized out of the freezer today, and you feel pretty great about that. I say that you should enjoy this whole shindig with a glass (or two) of wine. 

Now all you need is someone to help you cut the bread. (Clearly that's the most important part.)

Eating Out

Spring and Summer in Chicago has seen a big change in my budget. The amount alloted for food has been severely increased. And we're not talking groceries. The weather is nice and I am just throwing money out the window on restaurants. In some ways I feel guilty, but in other ways I just am embracing the goodness of getting dinner with friends.

What is it about eating together that makes us so happy? (Or, rather, makes ME so happy?) Going out to eat is quickly becoming my favorite way to spend my money. Almost over going out, concerts, or traveling (although I love all those three things of course). Without much of a summer (I go back to school in less than 2 weeks...) this has been one little way I've been making my summer feel more like a vacation.

Jen (the roommate) at Ba Ba Reeba

out at Native Foods (a vegan place...I'm branching out people) 

Heidi came to visit!

Sniped.  

 

Why did the Easter Egg Hide?

....because he was a little chicken!

Okay. Weak joke. But not even a terrible pun can bring me down because I just had an awesome time visiting Alex and Heidi over Easter weekend and the first half of my (glorious) spring break. It's not your typical SUPER SICK SB13 PCB kind of week, but it's much better, in my opinion. I flew back to Chicago tonight and I am already missing D.C. and the people I left behind. My parents were with me for half of the time, and I got the privilege of staying at Alex and Heidi's new (and beautiful) townhouse for the whole visit. Here are a few highlights for you to relive the goodness right along with me. Read below each photo for the deets.

Easter dinner. This picture about sums up the extent to which my mad cooking skillz were utilized for this big event. (Hint: I don't have mad cooking skillz) Alex is somewhat (alottawhat) a foodie and embraced this opportunity to dazzle us with his talents in the kitchen. He made some fantastic salmon and did a top-chef-calibur demonstration for us guests. I think I could even recreate it someday. In other news, the wine was delicious.

One of the absolute highlights of my trip was a visit to the famous Georgetown Cupcakes shop of the TV show on TLC, DC Cupcakes. While the rest of my family saw the line and immediately admitted defeat, Heidi stood dutifully with me down the block for the hour long wait until we finally got to order our box of a half-dozen cupcakes. I will say, it was worth the wait. We stopped and ate the cupcakes on the steps of a beautiful multimillion dollar home that was for sale. We thought it might attract potential buyers to see four strange Wisconsinites chowing down on baked goods on the front steps. Nobody came to see the house while we were there. Odd. 

I've added this picture purely for the fact that this is classic Dad: button-down dress shirt, dress pants, hiking all-weather shoes, cupcake in hand, posing for a picture and yet also somehow in mid-sentence.

Happening upon this sign was a significant moment for me. Sure, to the average onlooker, it could just be some dumb old Charles Dickens quote. But to me, it is the moment that March weather was so perfectly articulated like I have never been able to articulate on my own. It was outside a great coffee shop in Georgetown called Baked and Wired and I read it aloud three times in a row (passersby were confused at my excitement). I was always a little wishy washy on Charles Dickens, but now I am officially in his allegiance. It's pure genius. March weather totally is summer in the light and winter in the shade; it is absolutely when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold. That is exactly what it is like.  It is the best description of spring weather I have ever beheld. 

I like me some hard cider. I asked the waitress to bring me whatever cider they had, and this is what she brought to me. Original Sin. And I was out to eat with my parents! How scandalous. How risqué.  

My parents left after the weekend, leaving me with Alex and Heidi to chill on Monday and Tuesday. On Monday night they took me out for some Vietnamese goodness. This soup is called pho. I finished not even half of it and was insanely full. It was really good. I also suck at using chopsticks. The sophistication comes in stages, people. 

This was from Tuesday night when Alex, Heidi, and I were invited over to a friend of theirs' apartment for dinner (I had a really hard time figuring out the correct pluralization of that phrase and am still perplexed about whether or not it is correct.). I was exploring downtown when he was about to pick me up. Then he dropped it on me. Out of nowhere. SITUATIONAL AWARENESS. It's officially passing on to the next generation. Brian Gesch would be so proud. 

Friendsgiving

I am thankful for good people. I am thankful for good friends.

There were more than these people here, but this was the Trinity crew that was present. 

Let me tell you a little about this group of people. They are not my college roommates, nor are they the people with whom I spent most of my weekends. These were the friends I met when I was doing things in college. These are the friends I met while participating in Residence Life activities, playing in soccer practices, acting in improv, debating in Student Association meetings, and leading in freshman orientation week. These are my kindred spirits. People who love to be involved, think critically, and have great conversations about real things. These nerds probably enjoyed attending class as much as I did. I love these people because they are open, articulate, hilarious, and original.

Liz. The hostess with the mostest. 

Let me tell you about Liz Brice. She is not a touchy person and she hates how I exploit this with my hugging/arm nudging ways. But more important, she is a friend of mankind. She loves to bring people together. So last week she hosted Friendsgiving. It was wonderful. Basically, about 30 of us came together from all different friend groups and hung out and ate like crazy at a huge potluck. (I made a big plate of truffs and they went over really well. Click the link for a recipe.) It was a great time.

Jon, Jacqui, Sasha, and Cat. 

My new friend Luke. Sorry for cutting off your face, but this picture looked artsy so I kept it! 

The chalkboard that greeted us. 

Sam and Jon. You've met Sam before. If you haven't, go scroll down a few posts. 

Going through the line. Yumm.

Little talks. 

This is one tradition that I hope I always uphold: getting together with good people, being thankful for them, talking about real things, and eating lots and lots of good food. 

Good Housekeeping

I lucked out with these roommates. Well, again, I know it's never luck, but somehow I ended up with two fabulous girls with whom to live. Kristin and Jen are nurses in Lawndale, so we all are working in the same kinds of communities. They are low-key, happy, smart, and fun. Sometimes when I get down on my life situation, I remember how I love my apartment, love my neighborhood, love this city, and love my roommates. Oh, and I love their cooking too.

We've been trying to have semi-regular meals together and each take turns making the meal. My turn is this week and I am going to make one of my mom's meals in the crock pot, but I'm kind of nervous that it won't measure up. Since Kathy is a culinary genius herself, I think I'm safe on that front. Do you ever have that self-consciousness? I do all the time. I get nervous to run with good runners, discuss politics with political science majors, talk theology with seminary students, shop with really good dressers, and cook for perfectionists in the kitchen. While in theory I should want to do all these things with the "experts" in their respective fields, I just get intimidated instead. Maybe I should just hang out with incompetent people more often to feel better about myself? I would but then I wouldn't get to eat Jen's apple crisp. So I'll stick with what I've got going on right now.

The apple crisp. It was so cinnamony and delicious

 

Change-Up

This weekend was a big one. I finished the last day of Teach For America's Institute, said goodbye to my wonderful TFA friends, moved into a new apartment, met my new roommates, and will continue on as a real-life adult tomorrow in my real-life professional development session at my school. (I feel like I say "real-life" a lot when referring to my teaching and post-grad life...I think I do this because while all of those things are very real, I don't usually feel like a "real-life" adult.) Maybe I'll write more reflectively on the past little segment of my life in a day or so, but for now I'll let you know the cool things that went down in the past few days.

On Friday night my cousin Craig (who has a very high cool factor) invited me to go see his friend's band at the House of Blues. I grabbed Zach, my co-teacher who loves concerts, and rode up the Green Line to meet Craig and his friends (as well as unexpectedly run into one of my absolute favorite human beings, Lauren Sandberg! Ah!). 

Okay now a word about Zach. This kid has expressed how he feels snubbed for not being mentioned by name in the blog so far, so here goes: Zach was my better half in room 309 as the fellow Reading and Writing teacher and probably saved my life a million times by telling me to stop worrying, finding my lesson plans for me that I misplaced, and telling me that the lesson didn't go THAT badly when it definitely DID GO THAT BADLY. He's a Bostonian, so I like to repeat things in his R-omitting-accent (pahk the cah instead of park the car) while he often makes me repeat my Wisconsin-style pronunciation of "bag." One commonality that made me really excited: He also calls it a bubbler when you other people would refer to it as a drinking fountain. He is in the Milwaukee corps for TFA, so I don't have to say goodbye permanently, I just am super bummed that my partner in crime won't be there for me to make fun of and pester in Chicago all the time. But remember how I'm not getting too upset with saying goodbyes anymore? I'm an adult and I'm sucking it up. (Not really, but I want to sound confident so that's my story for now.) 

We saw the band Mike Golden & Friends headline at the House of Blues and it was AMAZING. They have such a cool vibe to their show (you can download their new album here!) and convinced me of their rockstardom in just a short hour and a half. It was a fabulous night to be in the city. Then reality hit. The next morning I opened my dorm door at IIT and saw this:

Yep. Move-out day. It sucks. Not only are you sad to leave your friends and awesome fun memories behind, you have to sweat like a beast and haul crap around in this sad nostalgic state. But then, all of a sudden, after 14 trips up and down four flights of stairs carrying everything I hold dear, Move-out day turned into Move-in day! Wouldya look at that?  See how that worked out to be an okay day after all? Nice. Here's a sneak preview of my apartment in Pilsen. It's a beaut. I'm just learning about how cool and authentic the neighborhood is as I'm hearing more about it and seeing it for myself. My roommates are two happy and fun girls, so I am really thankful for this living set-up. I'm still a little iffy on how I feel about being on my own in the real-life adult world (there I go again), but it's going to be a fun adventure to figure it all out. Look at me, a Chicago resident!

Not only did all those things happen this weekend, but another HUGE event in my life occurred. I discovered Cookie Butter. It might rank up there with starting a new job and moving into a new apartment on the gravity of impact that it's made on my life. I know there are others out there who have been on this train and I'm just hitching on now, but I have to say that it is the most delicious bandwagon I've jumped on since the joint Pizza Hut-Taco Bell drive-thru craze hit Sheboygan County in 2006. This stuff is amazing. It's hard for me to remember to spread it on other foods instead of just eat it by the spoonful on its own. I'm telling you, give it a shot. Right now. You won't be disappointed. I'll be spending tonight eating this, getting ready for bed, and falling asleep in a brand-new-to-me place. Real-life tastes good. 

Tastes Like Chicken.

That's because it is chicken. I am about to share with you, my friends, one of the best recipes on earth. Sole credit goes out here to my mother, Kathy Gesch, or Special-K as I like to call her. Every time I call to tell my parents I'm coming home I expertly weave it in the conversation somehow that it would be swell to have this dish and my mom always delivers. I called her today whilst wandering listlessly through the spaghetti section in Jewel for new ideas and she gave me the down low on this recipe. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: Dijon Parmesean Chicken. 


First things first. Let's get all your ingredients in order.

Here's what you need:
Boneless skinless chicken breasts
1/3 cup melted butter or margarine
3 Tbsp dijon mustard
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp worcestershire saurce
2/3 cup seasoned breadcrumbs
1/2 tsp paprika
1/4 cup parmesan cheese
2 Tbsp parsley
1 9x13 pan and 2 smaller pans for dipping
A good attitude and some fab background tunes (almost the most important ingredient)

This may be a good moment to let you know of my utter repulsion to touching raw meat. It feels like you're touching something dead. OH WAIT. YOU ARE. How do all you moms who cook every day get over that fact?! You guys are brave. But I figured, Anna, you gotta man up and do it for the sake of the delicious chicken that comes at the end of this ordeal. So I got brave and took it like a Gesch.

You set up your stations, like pictured above. You have your (rinsed off) raw chicken friend (gross) first, followed by a pan of the mustard, worcestaeroiajsdf sauce (it's hard to spell okay?), melted butter, and salt. The second pan is all the other ingredients for the outside breading. You go assembly-line style, first dipping it on both sides in the mustard mixture pan, then rolling it around so it's well coated in the breadcrumb mixture pan. Then you throw that baby in the 9x13. BadaBINGbadaBOOM. Repeat until the rest of his raw posse is properly coated and breaded. Like so:

Oh and by the way, your hands will look like this:

Gross. So now, all you have to do is throw it in the oven for 45 minutes at 350 degrees. That's farenheit, not celsius to all my European readers (ha.ha.). Today I prepared it earlier and then covered it with saran wrap in the fridge to pop in the oven when we were ready to eat. My mom took specific care to remind me to take off the plastic wrap before you put it in the oven. That may seem stupid to you guys, but that is something I probably need to be told from time to time. I need more, as my dad would say, Situational Awareness™ sometimes. Yes I just claimed that my dad trademarked the term. He may as well have. 


When you take it out of the oven, it will look like this: (And smell even better)

And the last ingredient that I forgot to add above is: your roommates! They help you eat stuff that you make. Otherwise I'd be eating this recipe for a week straight. I mean, I wouldn't mind eating it every day all that much to be completely honest. I tend to go at things a little too strongly. Example - the latest in our house is a blueberry obsession and there are currently 6 boxes of blueberries in our freezer that I snack on every single chance I have. But I'm trying to be a normal human being and eat in a somewhat balanced way. Ahh my friends together for dinner. So choice. 

Mi Reunión

(I thought that was a fun title because it's spelled the same in English and Spanish, just read with different emphasis.)

Today was a great day. Although kinda busy and hectic with some applications and organizational stuff, I got to see a good friend from my semester in Sevilla! Dave is a native Spanish chico who befriended a lot of us Americans. We played tons of sand volleyball and worked a lot on our Spanish with Dave and his friend Pablo. Well, now Dave is studying at a college in St. Louis and was visiting at his friend Jeremy's apartment in Chicago. I grabbed my faithful friend Lauren Sandberg and hopped on the orange line to meet them. We had a great time getting coffee (or hot chocolate, in my case), walking around in Wicker Park (so hipster of us), and unknowingly eating at a vegan cafe (surprisingly delicious).

my cute hot chocolate

my delicious salad - named "Greek Goddess"

recognize me?

i think dave looks like luigi

riding on the CTA

one of the best in the world

our new friend jeremy with lauren

It was a great way to spend my last night before classes begin for my spring semester tomorrow morning (yikes!). I am so excited for these next few months of school, and while I hate waking up early, I am kinda looking forward to writing those papers. To be honest, I missed 'em. This weekend is an adventure in itself as I head to Washington DC on a little bus trip (more on that later) with my good friend Karyn Koopmans. Whilst there I plan on meeting up with my brother's girlfriend, Heidi. Eeeek! Too much excitement!