My mother was not much of a cook, but there were a few things she made with great care and justifiable pride in how they turned out. One was homemade macaroni and cheese. Another was cabbage rolls (from a recipe inherited, in a sideways sort of way, from my grandmother's Hungarian-American best friend). A third was a dish we called "chicken and noodles." I hardly ever make it, because of the years I spent eating more-or-less-low-carb, but it's really fantastically homey and delicious. It's really a chicken noodle soup made with so many noodles that it's not soupy anymore. This is how my mother did it:
Start with a package of bone-in chicken breasts, the size that usually contains two breast halves. Cover with water, bring to a boil, and simmer about an hour or a little longer until the meat is done; don't overcook. Remove the chicken, allow to cool, and pick the meat from the bones, discarding the skin; set aside in the fridge. Return the bones to the pot; if there is time and you would like, you can simmer them longer to enrich the broth before the next step, but it's not necessary.
Add to the pot some chopped onion, diced carrots, and chopped celery; as much as you like, and in the size pieces you like. My mother didn't use much; maybe one or two carrots, one celery stalk, and a small onion, all in small dice. I like to keep the onion small, but I use plenty of carrots and celery. Continue simmering until the vegetables are as tender as you like them. Remove the bones.
Now add a whole lot of wide egg noodles -- like, as much as will fit and remain submerged. Raise the heat to a low boil and stir until the egg noodles are cooked, adding water (or chicken broth if you've got it) if necessary. Add the reserved chicken meat back to the pot and heat gently to warm through. Turning it down to low or even turning off the heat, covering the pot, and letting it stand until the noodles get downright mushy is an optional step that, in my opinion, enhances the dish.
Serve in a bowl with salt to taste and plenty of black pepper. I am returned to some of the more pleasant memories of my childhood if I also add a generous handful of Premium brand saltine crackers.
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I bring all this up because I am contemplating monkeying with the recipe.
Mark's not home for dinner tonight. I thought chicken and noodles would please my children, and I thought maybe this might be a good day to try to make the recipe a little more healthful.
I couldn't find whole-wheat wide noodles at the grocery store (they probably have them at the co-op, but I didn't feel like going there yesterday), so I bought Ronzoni brand whole wheat blend lasagna noodles, thinking I would break them up into random pieces. But the sight of the lasagna noodle box has me wondering: Could I make a layered-noodle casserole out of this stuff? I think I'm going to try it. I need the broth-veg-chicken mixture to be chunkier, so either I'll use lots of celery and carrots, or I'll augment it with some frozen peas, which will probably turn it into something a little more akin to a chicken pot pie than to Mom's chicken and noodles. I think I'll have to bake it longer than one would bake a lasagna, to ensure that the whole thing gells up. There will be no cheese; I could maybe add an egg custard, though, to firm it up a bit, and maybe stir a tablespoon or two of flour into the sauce as well.
I will let you know how it goes.
UPDATE? Okay, I didn't add any egg and I didn't add any peas. I boiled the broth-veg mix until it reduced by about half (which made it lovely, very rich tasting!) and stirred in 2 tablespoons of flour. I layered the lasagna noodles in a 9x9 Pyrex pan with the solids (veg and chicken -- no bones of course) and then poured the liquid over the whole thing. I covered it with foil and baked it for an hour.
My verdict: It turned out very tasty and with the right texture. The whole wheat lasagna noodles worked well. But I think it would have been just as good if I'd simply broken the noodles into the pot and cooked them till done, then covered the pot and let them sit. Baking it seemed like an unnecessarily long step.
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