My interest in Italian plums is entirely shallow. It’s not that they’re not delicious, Italian plums are, but they’re just so beautiful that I tend to forget about their other attributes. I think it’s their silvery bloom or maybe their shocking yellow interior or perhaps it’s because they’re purple and we all know how I feel about purple. Whatever the reason, they certainly have a hold on me. So, when I saw them at my local farmer’s market, I knew they had to be mine. Is it strange to have such strong feelings for a stone fruit? You don’t have to answer that – I know it is.
Do you ever get sick of your own voice, your own writing? I do. When I sat down to write this post for this blissfully delicious Watermelon Street Corn Salad I thought, ugh, not this b*tch again. It may sound like self-deprecation but it’s not. It’s like watching the same television show over and over again; the storylines may vary episode to episode but the personality stays the same. I’m sick of my narrative, my quirky puns, my attempts at humor. It’s pretty much what my head sounds like all the time.
The food doodle accompanying today’s recipe is a bit of a misdirect. Sure, there are technically tomatillos in these Chicken Verde Grilled Flatbreads but they aren’t fresh. Yes, I Susan Keefe, used store bought salsa verde in this recipe. The shame is overwhelming. Please know I would not have committed such a food blog sin if I had been able to get my hands on fresh tomatillos. Sadly, my neighborhood grocery haunts could not accommodate my tomatillo needs and tracking them down would’ve required a special trip, which would’ve required time that I am short on these days. So, I went with bottled salsa verde and while I’m sure freshly made would’ve been better, these flatbreads still managed to knock my socks off. Plus, with the bottled salsa, these flatbreads make for a stellar weeknight meal.
Once upon a time, I worked in a giant office building with a food court in the basement. And in that food court, there was a purveyor of wraps and salads designed to appeal to the starved-for-time, money-to-burn, health conscious yuppie. Among the merchant’s various offerings was a line of collard green wraps. Every time I would pass these wraps I would shake my head. To me, these “wraps” were proof that the gluten-free movement had officially jumped the shark. A few years and one career change later, here we are with Chicken Collard Wraps in our midst. And collard wraps of my own making, no less.