Boring, and not so boring.

I have been super busy the past several days, and besides fantasizing of taking a leave from my job to follow favorite musicians around the country, I have dreamed of eating this meal again as soon as possible. This meal here:

Even staring at it now .... mmmm. Memories. Honestly? I threw this thing together in a whirlwind of frustration that I have no time. Zilch. Nada. None. To my rescue came the bounty of Karl's farm and this glorious creation.

Please. In the name of all that is holy. Stop reading, go to www.penzeys.com, and order yourself some sweet curry powder. The small jar is all of three bucks. Promise. Worth it. Go go go.

Now that you are back, let me explain this life changing moment, despite the scarcity of moments these days.  As a general rule, when I buy groceries on the weekend, I try to get three proteins that I can whip up without thinking -- some sort of fish, chicken breastesses, and steak/ground buffalo/kabobs/insert meaty meat here. And chicken breastesses, which last the longest, usually require digging deep within for excitement and creativity to go beyond Dad's Lemon Pepper Chicken. Now, I realize, as a general rule, one can do any of a bajillion things with chicken breastesses that will taste delicious, but me? I cannot. I get bored. And impatient. Perhaps this is why I call them breastesses.  So the nights I make chicken breastesses, the rest of the plate better be damn exciting.

Bless summer for the ability to grill and enjoy it.  I rinsed those breastesses, patted them dry, added salt, pepper, and Penzeys Northwoods seasoning, then off to the grill with me.  Done and done. 

Now the fun. Southern curly mustard greens! Hakurei turnips! A dark and stormy! ALL FOR ME!

Hakurei turnips are small, white, and edible raw. I prefer things cooked. The turnips would need the most time, so I started there. I had fabulous thoughts of roasting the turnips with the D'Avignon radishes and topping with this Dijon mustard concoction I read about .... only, no mustard? And no radishes? Siiiiiiigh. I did not want to cook the turnips the way I always had, which basically mirrored the way I braise greens. I vaguely recalled reading something from a vegetarian website and thought, why not risk it. Enter Penzeys sweet curry powder. 

After peeling, washing, and slicing the turnips to about ..... 

I sliced a small yellow onion, threw it in some heated olive oil, added the turnips after a couple of minutes, and then maybe a teaspoon-ish of the Penzeys. Holy wow. My senses were ALIVE.

I worried about the cooking proceeding too slowly, so I added a bit of vegetable broth, gave it a stir, and plopped a lid on it. Then I turned to the mustard greens. Have you ever seen anything more gorgeous?

Chopped, rinsed, spun, and ready, the mustard greens would soon join a pan full of white sweet onions turning translucent in a hint of olive oil, with a couple of cloves of minced garlic and splash of veggie broth.  A drizzle (tiny drizzle!) of sesame oil on these and done. Mmmmm.

When I checked back on my turnips, I was greeted by the most glorious sight on my stovetop --  and PERFECT with the greens.

That meal was a fave. I asked Brandon for a quote, but he was too busy eating to say more than "savory." At least I care less and less about making chicken breastesses more exciting. But I shall always call them breastesses.