We’re Having Chicken Tonight.

Posted: 2012/02/01 in Uncategorized

Been Meaning to Clean That

Check back here for diner events.  My pies are worth it. Tra

This is an easy slow cooker dinner. Definitely NOT for people who like to poke, prod, drip sweat on or personally finger every inch of the ingredients as much as possible. Yeah you know the type…ubiquitous on cooking shows. Personally I hide my slow cooker/crock pot. It’s shameful. I own $3000 worth of copper pots from Switzerland. But I also like a hot meal that cooks itself while I am out running the streets buying unnecessary things and tanking up on espresso every few blocks…ok ok mostly I am sleeping or roughing up my cats.


1lb of Boneless Skinless Chicken Breasts (about 3)

2 Tablespoons Butter (notice I did not specify unsalted cause that’s a huge affectation considering 99% of recipes go on to direct you to add salt anyway)

2 cans Condensed Cream of Chicken Soup

1 ½ Cup of Chicken Broth (buy the chicken bouillon paste and mix with water – never buy that canned broth – it smells like 4 inches up a dogs bum)

½ Cup White Wine

1 Medium White Onion, diced

8 oz. Sliced Mushrooms – any sort but Portobello give it a nice rustic look

½ Cup Sliced Carrots

Bisquick Mix


Place thawed chicken in crock pot and top with butter.  Add everything else. Cook on High for 4-6 hours or Low for 8 hours.  Resist the urge to peek inside or stir…go watch TV or nap or dust your CDs or something if you’re the obsessive compulsive type (otherwise slow cooking is NOT for you).


Remove chicken from slow-cooker and shred with a fork after about 4 hours. One hour before the finish time follow the directions on the Bisquick box for dumplings and using a couple spoons drop nuggets of dough in the hot mix and recover. Continue to cook on High for 30 minutes.    Serve hot (like I have to tell you this). If guests are blighting your doorstep for dinner – be sure to put everything in your nicest covered tureen and hide the crock pot.

  1. Baxter Aubin says:

    Is that dine-in or take-away?

    • Bax…if you can’t bear one more second of your pesky guests then for sure find a few containers with lids that more or less fit and bag it up for them. They can microwave it in the comfort of their own small mammal dens while watching the latest episode of Unplanned Pregnancies of the Stars. But maybe you have hit on a trend. Invite guests for dinner and greet them at the door with a take-away bag.

  2. Jedrek says:

    Thank you for giving voice to the potential millions of amateur cooks who scream in silent frustration over the unsalted-butter-add-2tps-salt oxymoron that is over-running American contemporary cuisine. Many a time Ive had to reboot in the dairy aisle as I try to settle for low-salt when my very being screams for the full salt, full cream, full arterial damage variant. I know where to go for my chicken ‘n pie and that the shaker will always be within reach.

    • I KNOW. I mean how stupid do they think the average cook is? Of course, the most egregious recipe writers…who I hope have a special ring in Hell… are those who specify “Sea Salt”. The only time salt can be made interesting is if you manage to snag some of those beautiful translucent pink salt blocks from the Himalayas (quarried by men and mules) to serve your amuse bouche on…of course in America this means most of your impressed guests will be also asking if you have an extra blood pressure pill they can have. America’s fear of salt is a cook’s challenge. It’s a bold eater who will ask for the salt shaker…someone deserving of the biggest helping of the chocolate mousse.

  3. I will make my next post ‘Sugo’…tomato sauce. The food staple of my people. The Sicilian side of my people that is. And no, I am not descended from Italian royalty done wrong by the Visigoths. Generations of my family graced a one goat village until finally the tightly concentrated gene pool produced one guy who,against all advice from other family members and the old aunties giving him the malocchio, bought a ticket to America. Off he sailed with the family red sauce recipe pinned to his undies. A slightly stained document that has been matted and framed and justly venerated for years. And I don’t care what you heard on the Sopranos! I have never heard one Italian call sugo “gravy”.

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