chicarbonara and the chicken fight

I don't feel like I've been doing enough traveling of late. After spending a semester abroad in Barcelona--with trips to Paris, Prague, Milan, and Madrid--then returning to the US and heading straight to Oxford Ohio for Jac's graduation, retiring to Nashville for a tick just to shed some lbs and turn 21, then popping up to New York to spend the summer, and peppering my time there with a week in Florida and a weekend at the Cape, plus anticipating a week in San Antonio with my internship, I've been feeling a little cheated; I need more travel. Therefore, this weekend I decided to jump on a plane and head over to Chicago to stay with Jac and spend some time in the Windy City...well the Windy Suburbs I guess.

Jac and I decided that this weekend was going to be lazy: no dressing up, no big nights out on the town, no fuss; just a lot of watching movies and golf, catching some rays and a nice breeze by the lake, and as is necessary when you have a real, big, fully-equipped kitchen at your disposal, cooking a couple of delicious dinners.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again: he's picky. As we were discussing what we were going to make for dinner on Saturday night, every idea that I tossed out was met with a big fat "NO" from Jac. No to salmon, no to chicken, no to pork tenderloin, no to Mrs. Meador's pasta, no to lasagna. No, no, no, no, no. After calling up both of our mothers for help with dinner ideas and decision making, we finally decided on a type of pasta that is a take-off of one of my favorites, which we call Mrs. Meador's pasta. This dish is a simple mix of sausage, cream, arugula, parmesan, and of course pasta. For our dish however, we substituted the sausage with bacon--because let's be honest, who doesn't love bacon?--added a shallot and some white wine for a little extra sum-sum, and left out the arugula...because the spinach we thought we had in the refrigerator and were going to use as a substitute had since gone bad and was brown and runny. Ew.

The Chicarbonara Pasta (which is the name I have since decided upon because of its similarity to pasta carbonara and because it was created while in Chicago) was a big hit and it was gone in a flash. Leftovers didn't last long, and Mr. Connolly--typically not a pasta lover--even requested that Jac add it to his dinner repertoire for repeat offenses. Yes, we bickered a bit about what to make for dinner, but in the end everyone was happy. Night #1 - success.

Fajitas were on the menu for night #2 and I was planning to remake a recipe I'd used earlier this summer and received high marks from the Teren men; "These might be the best fajitas I've ever had, Mad!" my dad told me. I was certain that the Connolly men would feel the same. Fajitas are easy, fast, delicious, and the perfect opportunity for Jac to show off his grilling expertise...or so I thought. I imagined he would be thrilled at the prospect of impressing me on the grill, however Jac had different plans in mind as far as the preparation of the chicken goes. Jac was 100% convinced that in Mexican restaurants the fajita chicken is cooked on the griddle along with the peppers and onions, therefore giving the chicken more flavor. I, on the other hand, was convinced that the chicken was grilled first, giving it a nice char, and then added to the cooking veggies to meld flavors. We were on opposite sides of the fence, and neither Stubborn Jac nor Stubborn Mad were giving up.

True to form, I gave up. I'm such a kind, giving, and selfless girlfriend that I agreed to prepare the chicken Jac's way. We marinated it using my marinade, but he cut it up into small pieces for the marinating process, we cooked it in the pan like he wanted, and even added extra spices from the McCormick fajita-flavored spice packet like he requested. Things were not going my way.

I'll admit I was skeptical. I'll admit things in the kitchen might have gotten a tad heated. I'll even admit that I voiced my doubt and disgust about the spice packet we'd dumped onto our fajita fillings. But I also have to admit that they were good. Really good. Delicious. The chicken was very flavorful, juicy, and tender, and the veggies were cooked to perfection. Jac threw the tortillas into the oven so they were soft and warm, and also laid out a spread of shredded cheese, fresh guacamole, sour cream, and chunky salsa for fajita toppings. Three bell peppers, 4 chicken breasts, an onion, 1/2 lb. of guacamole, and 8 flour tortillas vanished into thin air. There wasn't a crumb left. High five Jac and Mads. Night #2 - success.

Sure, his way was good--cooking the chicken in the pan with the vegetables--but Jac knows that I do not like to lose a fight. So I did a little research on fajitas. And just so we're all clear on this...

A fajita ( /fəˈhiːtə/; Spanish pronunciation: [faˈxita]) is a term found in both traditional Mexican cuisine and in Tex-Mex cuisine,^[1] commonly referring to any grilled meat served on a flour or corn tortilla.

I win.

And she's two for two, ladies and gents!