A friend dropped by unexpectedly yesterday. He's retired and lives
in a bus. He calls it a coach and points out that it has a king sized
bed, a microwave convection oven, a refrigerator, a shower, a
computer, and all the amenities of home. But it sure looks like a bus
to me. D asked him what sort of mileage he gets in it, and he said he
gets better mileage than we do in our house, which would be true if we
were trying to move our house, but isn't true since we aren't.
For dinner I made chicken breasts in the new Great Outdoors propane
smoker. But I didn't really smoke them, more like a roasted thing
using a smoky environment.
The boneless, skinless breasts (buy one pack, get another one free
with the special, snoop-into-your-shopping-habits store card) got
doused in lime juice and rubbed with a blend of ground chipotles,
smoked salt, and black pepper. The smoker got fired up with pecan
twigs in the little smoker box. I ran it up to about 350F. In went
the chicken for about 35-40 minutes. While they cooked, I made a
sauce of garlic-infused olive oil, Bufalo chipotle sauce, lime juice,
and mayonnaise.
He ate, slapped me on the back in approval, watched an episode of
Andrew Zimmern's Bizarre Foods with us, and took leftovers home to his
bus. Coach.
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