Jan. 11th, 2013

nverland: (Monthly-January)
[personal profile] nverland
Photobucket


Cranberry Gorgonzola Stuffed Chicken
Prep: 30 min. Bake: 35 min. Yield: 6 Servings

Ingredients
6 boneless skinless chicken breast halves (6 ounces each)
1 cup (4 ounces) crumbled Gorgonzola cheese
1/2 cup dried cranberries
2/3 cup chopped walnuts
1/3 cup packed fresh parsley sprigs
2/3 cup dry bread crumbs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
2 eggs
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1/2 cup all-purpose flour

Directions
Flatten chicken to 1/4-in. thickness. In a small bowl, combine cheese and cranberries. Spoon 1/4 cup cheese mixture down the center of each chicken breast. Roll up and secure with toothpicks.
Place walnuts and parsley in a food processor, cover and process until ground. Transfer to a shallow bowl; stir in the bread crumbs, salt and pepper. In another shallow bowl, combine eggs and mustard. Place flour in a third shallow bowl. Coat chicken with flour, then dip in egg mixture and coat with walnut mixture.
Place seam side down in a greased 15-in. x 10-in. x 1-in. baking pan. Bake at 350° for 35-40 minutes or until a thermometer reads 170°. Discard toothpicks. Yield: 6 servings.

To Make Ahead: Prepare the roll-ups; cover and refrigerate until ready to bake.

Nutritional Facts
1 chicken breast equals 397 calories, 16 g fat (6 g saturated fat), 164 mg cholesterol, 588 mg sodium, 19 g carbohydrate, 2 g fiber, 44 g protein.
nverland: (Poetry)
[personal profile] nverland
Snow
by Kenneth Rexroth

Low clouds hang on the mountain.
The forest is filled with fog.
A short distance away the
Giant trees recede and grow
Dim. Two hundred paces and
They are invisible. All
Day the fog curdles and drifts.
The cries of the birds are loud.
They sound frightened and cold. Hour
By hour it grows colder.
Just before sunset the clouds
Drop down the mountainside. Long
Shreds and tatters of fog flow
Swiftly away between the
Trees. Now the valley below
Is filled with clouds like clotted
Cream and over them the sun
Sets, yellow in a sky full
Of purple feathers. After dark
A wind rises and breaks branches
From the trees and howls in the
Treetops and then suddenly
Is still. Late at night I wake
And look out of the tent. The
Clouds are rushing across the
Sky and through them is tumbling
The thin waning moon. Later
All is quiet except for
A faint whispering. I look
Out. Great flakes of wet snow are
Falling. Snowflakes are falling
Into the dark flames of the
Dying fire. In the morning the
Pine boughs are sagging with snow,
And the dogwood blossoms are
Frozen, and the tender young
Purple and citron oak leaves.

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