Mandy's Famous Rosemary Chicken Salad

You know what I hate? Mayonnaise.


When I was in eighth grade, I was in the school's spelling bee and almost lost because I didn't know how to spell mayonnaise. So, for one, mayonnaise almost ruined my childhood.  Fortunately, though, the other girl didn't know how to spell it, either, so mayonnaise didn't manage to ruin the bee for me.  I later won with the word nougat. Shoot yeah! (Also, maybe I ate a nougat bar--the Big Hunk--every day for lunch in the eighth grade?)

Sure, mayonnaise didn't ruin that day, but it has ruined many a sandwich in the years since my glorious spelling bee victory. Ugh! So gross! The thing is, even though I know what actually goes into mayo, I still have this mental block against it. And even though I'm a much less picky eater now than I used to be, and Matt insists that I actually do like mayonnaise deep down in the depths of my soul, I've been hard core against it. (Plus, do I really need to convince myself to like something that's only going to make me fatter?)

Anyway, because of my aversion to all things mayonnaise, it took me a really long time to eat chicken salad. I'd only eat the less-mayonnaisey ones, and even then I'd have to play mind games with myself to really enjoy them. But lately, I've been playing it fast and loose with mayonnaise. And just this week I made a huge first step: actually putting mayonnaise on a sandwich! Granted, it was a spicy mayo for a banh mi sandwich that Cassie gave me the recipe for (and that you should definitely make), but it was mayo nonetheless.

Look at me growing (in more ways than one)!

Anyway, all that to say that I've been getting over my mayophobia. So I've been making chicken salad lately, and it's hella good. It's not drowning in mayonnaise, and it's an easily adaptable recipe, and even Matt, hater* of chicken salad, has been going BANANAS! for it. I added rosemary to it because that's what my idol Cheryl from Back in the Day Bakery does.  But her cookbook isn't out yet (spring, 2012, baby!), so in the meantime I'll be making this one.  You should make it, too.  And eat it on some delicious bread, or on crackers. Mmmmm. . .

And then get online and order me a case of Big Hunks.**

Mandy's Famous Rosemary Chicken Salad

Ingredients

1 lb. or so boneless skinless chicken breasts (or whatever chicken you want as long as it's not from a can)
1/2 cup mayonnaise (Cassie says you can only use Hellman's)
5 stalks celery, finely chopped
1/2 red onion, finely chopped
1 cup red grapes, halved
3/4 cup unsalted cashews (or whatever nut you want), chopped
salt
pepper
crushed red pepper

Directions

Salt and pepper the chicken and cook it.  I did it in a cast-iron skillet, but you could bake it, too.  Chop everything else.  Mix it all together. 

Fancy, huh?

 

*Pronounced hate-uh if you want to be hip like me. As in, "don't be a hate-uh."

 

**Also, do not do a Google image search for "big hunk bar" from your workplace.

Up

Remember that scene at the end of Forrest Gump when Forrest is talking at Jenny's grave, and right before he puts down the letter that Little Forrest wrote for her, he says, "And he's so smaht, Jenny" and his voice cracks and he starts crying and then you [unless you are Matt who does not have a soul] start crying for days?

That's nothing.

Up made me sob. It was the kind of crying where I was doing the deep breaths that shook my whole body. (I'm still crying.) But it was completely worth it. And I'll go ahead and throw this out there--best movie of the summer.

The movie is gorgeous, to start. The whole thing looks like candy. The 3-D was also beautiful, that is, when my vision was not clouded by the streams of tears falling from my eyes. Characters, great. Plot, pretty cool. Pulling of the heartstrings, oh dear God. It's a nearly perfect film. And, there's a dog who's basically Mitch. Go see it. Right. Now.

While the movie was incredible, our fellow moviegoers left much to be desired. First of all, there was the Jon and Kate Plus 8 family who boldly defied stereotypes when they did not correctly count out how many seats they would need, leaving them in a state of confusion. There was the guitar hero before the movie--which was, admittedly, a cool idea--during which the players forced us to listen to crappy renditions of "Eye of the Tiger" not just once, but twice. There was the old man in the tucked-in Hawaiian shirt who stole Matt's armrest. And then there was the screaming baby whose mother just let it scream, and scream, and scream. Maybe it was more than one screaming baby? Who knows.

And we went to the theater that is constructed from garbage. At least, that's what it feels like. There were homemade clouds on the wall that looked like a bulletin board threw up, there was food all over the floor, and the whole place had a general feeling of being covered in mayonnaise. I hate mayonnaise.

NOTE: If you have a baby, and you make the decision to take it to a public place (restaurant, movie theater, grocery store, etc.) and it starts to scream, please remove the child from that public place. Please do not punish the rest of us with your screaming child. It's neither cute nor endearing.