When they got married, they had a cookbook produced, which they gave as their wedding favor. It has a picture of monkeys on it. . . . .and there's a LONG story behind that, trust me.
Now, to be honest, I never - ahem - actually used the cookbook (there. I admitted it.)
Until one summer.
When we used to visit at my parents' lake house in Indiana, we all took turns fixing dinner. When it was their night, my sister-in-law whipped up this dish that was simply FABULOUS.
"Can I have the recipe?" I asked, watching my children devour extra helpings.
"It's in our cookbook," she replied.
Oops. Way to blow my cover.
I give you a yummy, easy, relatively inexpensive recipe, adapted from the famous "It's Chow Time" coookbook (pub. 2001, Monkey Lover's Press):
Grandma Darlin's Sheeyrea
(We call it Shydeeay)
1 stewing chicken, cooked (I use 1 large can of chicken)
4 c. chicken broth (use liquid from stewing chicken/canned chicken plus liquid from chick peas before using canned chicken broth)
1 can chick peas, drained
2 c. thin spaghetti broken into small pieces - don't substitute
3/4 stick margarine (I don't usually use this much!)
1 c. Uncle Ben's converted white rice (the recipe says it MUST be Uncle Ben's)
salt to taste
Here's what we do:
Get the little people in your life to break the spaghetti. They'll have a blast, trust me!
In a large frying pan, melt butter, and then pour in the spaghetti. Stir constantly to brown.
Next, bring the broth to a boil in a large pan with a good cover. Put in cut up (or canned) chicken (make sure it's COOKED if you're using the stewing bird!!), chick peas, rice, salt (if desired) and browned spaghetti.
Mix together, put cover on, and simmer for 20 minutes or until rice is done. You might need to add more broth - just keep an eye on it.
Now. . . here's where the recipe gets controversial.
In a saucepan, mix together 1 small can tomato sauce, a dash of garlic powder, and a can of peas (shudder). Bring to a boil. Serve over the Sheeyrea.
I avoid making the sauce if at all possible. I have an issue with peas. Don't ask. It's a traumatic childhood memory. (Again, secretly hoping my mother doesn't read my blog. . . . . . )
My eldest, however, LOVES the sauce, and if I didn't include it, she would cry "Foul!"
But she does read my blog. So there. I included it.
Rather noble of me, don't you think?