Hello Fresh Experiment: Prosciutto-Wrapped Chicken

I’m going to start calling these by recipe. I think the titles might have a more valuable meaning that way.

Tonight’s dinner was prosciutto-wrapped chicken over risotto.

If it’s not obvious by previous posts, I adore Gordon Ramsay. I’ve only ever attempted risotto once when we were having a Hell’s Kitchen-themed dinner party. It turned out meh. I’ve been scared of it ever since.

It really isn’t that hard. It’s time consuming, sure, but you know good things are.

So, it started with getting the risotto ready which involved a shallot and garlic. Well, if you’ve been paying attention, not only am I a Gordon Ramsay fiend, I despise onions. But… to make my friend Amy proud, I minced up half of that damn shallot. (Remember last time, baby steps.) Then I cut the garlic. Cooked up those bad boys in what was probably too much olive oil. (I think I heard a couple of those slices of garlic cry for help as they drowned.) Cooked up the rice and start adding the liquid… stir, stir, wait till all of the liquid is absorbed before adding more. Rinse, lather, repeat.

My pretty risotto when I took a brief moment from my FitBit workout.

I did so much stirring that my FitBit registered about 2,000 additional steps just while I was making dinner. Stir, stir, step count goes higher. I caught onto that and started stirring even when it wasn’t necessary. Hahahahah. Take that FitBit. (Still didn’t hit my goal today. *sigh*) As I was stirring, I’d randomly remove slivers of garlic because it just seemed heavy on the garlic–so heavy, in fact, that if I didn’t do this, I feared the people I have a Skype call with later tonight would complain about my breath.

Then I had to wrap the chicken in prosciutto. It didn’t tell me to spice the chicken up before I did, but I did anyway. Because Gordon Ramsay taught me chicken always needs to be seasoned. Well. No, I learned that long before Ramsay. You know, back in the Emeril Bam! if-I-hear-that-catchphrase-one-more-time-I’m-going-to-burn-this-mother-down days. Then I seared them in the pan, and then stuck the pan in the oven for fifteen minutes. (I did pre-heat the oven. I didn’t just stick it in the oven for the hell of it. Though that sounds like something I would do because I did flip the wrong burner off and I wondered my risotto wasn’t absorbing liquid anymore.)

Once the risotto was done, I was supposed to mix in spinach so it would wilt and some halved grape tomatoes. As you should know by now, the grape tomatoes were a no go. Period. End of story. The spinach—well, that was a me-go. I did it. This girl who hates green vegetables did it. I picked the stems off. Look, I know they are baby spinach and you’re not supposed to have to take them off, but I did. I can’t stand ribs on my lettuce or stems on my spinach. I roll my way, you roll yours. But I only did a handful or so, since it was only going to be me eating it and I was going to have to pick it all back out for my plate after it was wilted.

Added the parmesan to the risotto, pulled the chicken out of the oven and we were off to the races.

No. Wrong. Off to dinner. Doh. My bad.

Sorry Gordon. A thousand humble apologies.

In true dumbass fashion, I was so excited that my husband walked through the door right as I was finishing up (how’s that for timing?), I forgot to season the risotto. Doh. I mean, come on, rookie mistake number one. “Bland!” as Gordon Ramsay would yell, tossing the spoon on the floor, dropping the pan in front of me expecting me to make it again. Look at that, three dinners in a row and Ramsay would kick me out of my own kitchen. My average is truly sucking.

Now, onto the taste factor… the chicken was amazing. And because prosciutto is nothing but a paper thin expanse of salt, if I took a bite of risotto and chicken (providing it was covered by the prosciutto), no one would ever know I was a screw up. (But I knew. That’s enough of a fail to me.)

Yeah, yeah, it looks like a sad and tired shrimp. But it was really good chicken. I clearly need to work on my plating, but I’d rather have taste down pat and an ugly plate than a pretty plate and no flavor any day.

My non-chicken liking daughter ate a couple bites of chicken, but she ate about half the risotto. (Sans spinach, of course.) My husband ate all his chicken and part of hers—and we even had enough leftover for him to have a small lunch at work this week. Not bad for two servings, huh?

He said I could definitely do this one again. I told him that, if nothing else, this Hello Fresh experiment of ours is actually helping me learn (or re-learn) some skills in the kitchen. And giving us some great recipes to try again on our own, or to make variations of. So even if we don’t do this forever (and we likely won’t), it’s definitely been worth it for that.

If you’re interested in experimenting with Hello Fresh, click here to get $40 off your first box. (So you can get six meals—three dinners, two servings of each—for $20. What have you got to lose?) 


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