Grilling season is dreams away for many, while we in Southern California – as though the weather gods add insult to injury for the rest of the county – have been blessed with sunny, warm winter dayd. Remember it all goes with away with a shattering 4.+ on the richter or a swelling mudslide. The sunshine is why we tolerate traffic and “like” in our statements that sound like questions and know that our value gets determined by proximity to George Clooney and that the Kardashians were invented here and that we live in a place where “work” means plastic surgery not employment. Someone once told me that life in Colorado is determined by your relationship to the mountain – in Southern California, it’s your relationship to the ‘industry’. Like the Rockies mountain range, there only one industry in Los Angeles . Please let us have our sunshine and warmth and be smitten.
Way over to the Midwest, however, Indiana to be specific, is where my cousins are suffering from frigid blustery days and where we get today’s cooking trick. Bob, my cousin by marriage – really, he’s my cousin’s ex-wife’s husband – so like a cousin by marriage and divorce, not really a relative at all, but I think of him as Cousin Bob. His step-daughter calls me Aunt Sherri even though I’m her second cousin. Sometimes people just fit into a role rather than an actual title. So Bob makes as it is called “Bob’s Chicken.” What About Bob? that I love is that he’s one of the few guys I know who gets excited to shop for groceries, so you know this is a guy who’s figured out some things about food. Bob’s Chicken is certifiably juicy, sharply flavored, leftover resilient and criminally, shamefully, woefully easy. What’s Bob’s secret?
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