For the Love of Con

“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened.”

                                                             ~Anatole France

Something amazing happens to us as humans when we open our hearts to an animal. It could be a cat, or a dog. A bird, fish or reptile. For many it is a horse or other farm animal. The type of pet that you love and care for is not as important as the process of falling in utter and complete love with your pet. Animals that capture our souls are unique and unbelievably special. This week, one of my best friends had to say good bye to her special boy. He crossed over the Rainbow Bridge after a battle with congestive heart failure. Con was the most majestic Irish Wolfhound. He was born on St. Patrick's Day. Kate first met Con when he was five months old. His owners brought a group of their Irish Wolfhounds to our local Highland Games as a sort of exhibit. The group of puppies were being walked across the grassy field when Kate's grandson, Tristan, at only 18 months old, stopped and watched the procession. It must have been a sight for a toddler to witness...even at 5 months old, Irish Wolfhounds are large dogs. Con stopped when his eyes gazed upon Tristan. They connected in that moment. Almost as if they knew they needed one another. Something magical happened as the two stared at one another. A bonding between a little boy and a dog. Kate, being unbelievably perceptive, sensed this and decided almost instantly that she wanted Con. He had a gentleness about him that made his size seem less intimidating. He really was gigantic.Being so large did not keep him from loving and nuzzling Kate's little grandson. They were buddies, Con and Tristan. I'm sure if Con had lived longer, he and Tristan would have had many adventures.Con loved to sit on the couch, rump up on the seat and front legs on the floor. It was probably a pretty comfortable place to sit for a 140 lb dog. Whenever Kate would stand still, Con would lean up against her. I'm sure there were times that she had to brace herself to keep from falling over. We all knew how special this dog was. His calm and loving demeanor were unmistakable. Kisses from Con were something I always looked forward to. Big, slurpy, wet doggie kisses.
Con was only three. Much too young. It feels like we didn't get enough time with him. But sometimes, rather than question why, or exclaim that life isn't fair, it's easier to appreciate the time you had and know that you gave your treasured pet the best possible life. We all knew that Con was sick. We could see him slowly declining over the summer. Kate's son in law dug a grave over a month ago. You can prepare. You can know, in your mind that the end is near but when it finally happens, you find that no amount of preparation can soften the blow to your soul. Kate loved this dog. She bonded with him before she brought him home. Anyone that met Con was immediately captivated by his presence. If it's possible for a dog to have charm, then Con was given a double dose. Have you ever seen a dog smile? Isn't that the most incredible thing? Con seemed to always be smiling.
When I found out that Con had passed, I knew that Kate was saddened beyond belief. It seems that one of the ways that I comfort my loved ones is through food. Food is comforting. And in my mind, food equals love. Especially when you prepare it with good intentions and sweet thoughts. I set out to make a double recipe of a batch of Oatmeal Raisin Cinnamon Cookies. I've taken cookies to her office before so it wouldn't necessarily be unusual for cookies to magically show up again. Having to work the day after your beloved dog passes away has to be difficult. And cookies and a big comforting hug would at least make it more bearable for her. I've always believed that the little things, the gestures of love, kindness and encouragement were more important than an entire book of lofty intentions.

Oatmeal Raisin Cinnamon Cookies (also known as Hugs in Cookie Form)

2/3 cup granulated sugar
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup real butter
1/2 cup shortening
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 large eggs
3 cups old fashioned oats
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup raisins

1. Heat oven to 375 degrees
2. Beat all ingredients except oats,flour and raisins in large bowl with electric mixer on medium speed. Stir in oats, flour and raisins.
3. Drop dough by rounded tablespoonfuls about 2 inches apart onto ungreased cookie sheet. ( I always use parchment paper)
4. Bake 9-11 minutes or until light brown. ( 10 minutes seemed to be the perfect amount of time, at least for my oven)
5. Immediately remove from cookie sheet to wire rack.

I made a double recipe. While there are 10 people working in Kate's office, one batch should have been enough. But, as with everything I do, I go all out. I generally seem to cook and bake as if I'm feeding a group of 20. I guess I'd rather have more than enough than to have someone go hungry. I'm wondering if there are any cookies left. I noticed that Kate ate three of them, just while we were visiting. Ooops. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone.
While baking cookies seems to be a simple thing to do to help someone through their grief, I think the gesture behind it is what really counts. Close friends just seem to understand that. I didn't know how else to comfort her and reassure her that I care. Cooking is just what I do. It's part of who I am. I cook when I'm happy. I cook when I'm sad. I cook for other people, to show them how much they mean to me. I cook to celebrate, to entertain and to love. And on a side note, since I did make a double batch, I knew I'd have enough to take a small bag to another friend that I simply adore. She is my official taste-tester. I simply love taking her little portions of cookies or cake. And sometimes, I end up dropping by with a plate of happiness, just when she needs a little pick me up.I don't believe that there are any coincidences in life. You meet the people that are meant to be in your life, for one reason or another. And Kate is like a sister to me. My official taste tester, Tami, is such a sweetheart. I truly love my friends, through all of their ups and downs. True friends just have a knack of knowing when you need a hug. It just so happens that sometimes those hugs come in the form of Oatmeal Cookies.
Peace and Love,
Marna
Rest in Peace Sweet Con...you were loved and treasured.

Living in the Moment

 Rock Creek Recipes is back! I have been away far too long. I've missed the process of writing and sharing.. What a busy summer it's been around here. We've crammed as many small trips and adventures into the weekends as humanly possible. Sometimes it felt like we were in a whirlwind. Was it worth it? You bet. Life goes by too fast. I have no intention of sitting in a chair and watching it go by. While I enjoy quiet, relaxed days, I also love being busy and active. Life needs balance. And looking back on the past several months, I'm sure we could have taken things at a slower pace but in doing that, we would not have been able to experience as much as we did. Living here, we know that we have a limited amount of time for summer related outdoor activities, we realize that fall and winter are a slower, more relaxed time of year while spring and summer are filled with activity! And I do mean filled!

 I started out the spring with taking numerous walks in the area that we live. I took a lot of photos because I wanted to give you all an idea of the beauty that surrounds us.These grand trees are less than half a mile from home. When I walk down the road, I'm always captivated by their presence. I can't quite explain it. We drive by them everyday, almost without noticing. But when I walk past, I always slow down and gaze at them. I take in their beauty, their calming presence. It is almost as if they are beckoning to me, to stop, to take notice, to appreciate, to breathe.

 Spring is a gorgeous season here. Everything new, fresh, coming to life after a snowy winter. I eagerly anticipate the ground thawing, the leaves returning to the lilacs, the tiny buds of flowers forming then blooming practically overnight. As I watch the transformation of our yard, from a frozen, white landscape to a lush, green oasis, I do my best to live in the moment. To truly appreciate the changing of the seasons, the fragility of life, and the air that I breathe. It seems that this place brings about awareness and appreciation. I was raised to be an outdoor type of girl. We camped and hiked, fished, picnicked, and often ate our summer dinners on the patio. I guess it's only natural that I would continue to have that desire, to be out in nature.

  

When life gets a bit hectic, you can find my by the water. This is just a simple irrigation canal that runs through the corner of our front yard, from Rock Creek but hearing the water move across the rounded stones is so soothing and peaceful. I know that my grandparents would have loved it here. I can imagine my Grandma, barefoot, pants rolled up, wading into the cool water. It seemed that anywhere we traveled, if there was a body of water, she had her feet in it. I have at least a dozen photos of her standing at the edge of a creek or lake, toes dipped in and smiling. In my imagination, Grandpa is sitting by our little "creek", in the shade with his straw hat on, his hand gently petting our dog, Nalah, He had such a love and appreciation for all  animals. I can't remember a time when we didn't have at least one pet when I was growing up. He was always so sweet and kind to them. Yes, I think that they would have felt right at home here. After all, this place has the look and feel of so many of the places we camped over the years. And life goes on, they may not be here any longer, but they will forever remain in my heart and in my thoughts. They know how much I miss them. I try to not let sadness consume me, I try to live with joy, the way they would want me to. So I encourage you to get out in nature, feel the earth, feel the magic it has to offer. Live in the moment, take it all in. Life goes by too fast.

Strawberry Custard Torte

Strawberry Custard Torte

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A little slice of heaven....

 

 

One of my favorite things to do is to make dessert. And if I'm lucky, I'll make that dessert for friends. Rock Creek Hubby and I love to entertain. Looking back on our 20-plus years together, I think that we always have. We've hosted parties, holiday meals, game and movie nights, meetings. I remember cooking Thanksgiving dinner for close to 20 people once. I enjoy the process of cooking and preparing food but I also enjoy feeding my friends. Sharing food is a special thing. When you find friends that you enjoy spending time with, sharing a meal with them is even more special. And having the opportunity to cook for them? It's simply amazing.
This past Saturday we had a group of our friends over, to celebrate the 4th a little early. We have about four acres here and since we've worked so much in the yard this year, we figured that it was about time we enjoy the beautiful space we have here.
Luckily, I found out ahead of time that our friends don't care for chocolate and peanut butter, which was my original plan. I switched gears and opted for something light and cool. This torte was perfect. It reminded me a lot of Strawberry Shortcake. And I love the fact that the custard is homemade while the cake comes from a mix. I had a friend ask if it was possible to add a lemon flavor and I definitely think so, either use a lemon cake mix instead of the plain yellow or add lemon to the custard. I think that would be a delicious alternative. The entire Torte is served cold, which added so much to the flavor and texture. Perfect for a summer BBQ.

There are times that I worry about how my food is presented, especially when we have company. It seems that no matter how hard I try, I have such trouble getting my creations to look like the photos in my cookbooks. But then I remind myself that this is something I enjoy, a hobby and not how I make my living. I don't need to be obsessive or overly meticulous. This is supposed to be fun. So, if you notice the crumbs scattered about in the whipped topping of the Strawberry Torte, like I did, then you'll have to excuse me. I was enjoying the process of cooking so much that things got a little wild in the kitchen. My daughter shared a quote with me today and I think it fits perfectly, on many levels.    "Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon."  That describes me completely. 

Strawberry Custard Torte

1 package (18-1/4 oz) yellow cake mix
1/3 cup sugar
1 tbs cornstarch
1/8 tsp salt
1 cup milk
2 egg yolks, lightly beaten
1 tbs butter
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 carton (8 oz) frozen whipped topping, thawed
1 package (12 oz) frozen sweetened sliced strawberries, thawed and drained
Sliced fresh strawberries for garnish

Prepare and bake cake according to package directions, using two greased and floured 9 inch round baking pans. Cool for 10 minutes; remove from pans to wire racks to cool completely.
In a saucepan, combine the sugar, cornstarch and salt; gradually stir in milk until smooth. Bring to a boil over medium heat; cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened. Remove from the heat. Stir a small amount of hot filling into egg yolks; return all to pan, stirring constantly. Brind to a gentle boil; cook and stir for 2 minutes. Remove from the heat. Stir in butter and vanilla. Cover and refrigerate until chilled.
Place half of the whipped topping in a bowl; add strawberries. Split each cake into two horizontal layers; place one layer on a serving plate. Spread with half of the strawberry mixture. Top with a second layer; spread with custard. Add third layer; spread with remaining strawberry mixture. Top with remaining cake and whipped topping. Refrigerate overnight. Garnish with sliced fresh strawberries.
Yield 12 servings

A Nail Polish Destiny

I wrote the following story back in December. Tomorrow is Nail Day and I wanted to share this with all of you.

A Nail Polish Destiny

by Marna Fahrney on Sunday, 18 December 2011

Have you ever done something that felt like destiny, like you've either always done it or have done this particular thing in another time or place? As if it just fits and feels like home?  I can't recall exactly how I became the Nail Girl at Settler's Park, one of our local assisted living facilities. Almost an entire year ago I signed up to volunteer to read to the seniors every other week. And somehow, out of that, came an entire bag of nail polish, cotton balls, nail files, cuticle oil, and lots of music from the 40's and 50's.
Their activity room is located in a large open area just past the main entrance and directly in front of the dining room. There are two long tables lined up end to end with a couch behind them. Each week, when I arrive, nail bag slung over my shoulder, my ladies are lined up on one side of the table. I never would have thought that getting your nails done would be such a popular thing to do. What a warm greeting I receive when they notice me. I quickly get set up, knowing that I only have a couple of hours before they go to dinner and I don't want anyone to be left out. I have even filed and clipped nails on some of the gentlemen residents (which they thoroughly enjoy). They have all decided that their favorite part of the entire experience is the last step...lotion. I use cocoa butter lotion and massage it into their hands. Proof again that human touch is healing in many ways. I try not to rush this part because I know how they enjoy it. I only spend an average of six hours a month with these ladies. I wish I could be there more , it doesn't seem like enough, yet in that short amount of time, I feel like we've become such great friends.
We laugh together, about all sorts of silly things. We sing along with the songs that play on my radio. I have stations that I know they will enjoy, like Dean Martin, Perry Como, Loretta Lynn and their latest favorite, Doris Day. A few weeks ago, there were several conversations going on at the table while I was busy filing, clipping and painting nails  when Que Sera, Sera came on the radio. First it was one lady singing along. Then two, then the rest joined in on the chorus. A table of 16 women, most in the 70's or older, all singing,
"Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be."

I had tears in my eyes. Not because of our impromptu sing-a-long, we actually sounded quite good, but because I was realizing how precious this moment was. Each of these women has come from a different background, each has their own story, and each of them now live in this retirement facility. Even if they wouldn't have been friends in their younger years, they are finding common ground now, and seeming to enjoy the small, special things that life brings their way. There was such joy in that moment. I will never hear that song the same way again.

I hear such great stories in those few hours. Stories of young love, marriage, raising families, children and grandchildren. Some are still married, most are widows. But each and every one of them has a story to tell. And much love to give. We've laughed till our sides hurt, we've shed tears when one passes away, we've worried when another is not at the nail table due to illness. They have become a family, and I'm somehow included in that. How fortunate am I?
This started as a simple way to give back. I've always loved spending time with seniors. Growing up, I was incredibly close to all four of my grandparents. This is just an extension of my love for them. And now, after a year of twice a month nail visits, I have found friendship, love, affection and a deep appreciation for these beautiful women. I see past the wheelchairs, the walkers, the memory loss, limbs that don't move the way they used to. In my mind and heart, they are young women, falling in love, helping their children with homework, in their kitchens cooking meals, with endless supplies of energy, living life to the fullest. Age is only a number. Beauty is where you find it and I've found it here with my lovely friends. This is my destiny. I know when I walk through that door on Wednesday afternoons, that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

Close to my Heart

Spinning, twirling, and tracing the outline of the stones in Grandpa's turquoise ring as I sat next to him on the couch, my chubby little fingers, touching his strong, weathered hands. I loved that ring. He didn't wear it often but it still seemed to be a part of him. It symbolized his spirit, kind, generous, loving and strong. Both he and Grandma loved turquoise jewelry. We would often go camping in the Sierra Nevada mountains and there were several little shops that carried Native American goods and turquoise jewelry. If their good friends Noel and Vera were camping with us, we had to be sure and stop because Vera loved Minnetonka  Moccasins. She always had a pair in her trailer and they looked so comfortable.On one of these trips, they bought me a small and simple ring, something appropriate for a little girl. I treasured that ring and wore it almost everyday. I remember when the stone developed a crack across the center and I had to stop wearing it. It was just about too small for me at that point but I think I would have gladly switched it to my pinky finger just so I could continue wearing it longer. Fast forward to two years ago...I now have my own business. One of my clients gave me the best gift ever. She went on vacation to Arizona and chose a turquoise ring almost exactly like my original, and I wear it on the same finger. She did not know the story of my ring or how much it meant to me. I opened the box and almost cried. I am in awe that life has a way of bringing you back to special times and involving new people in the journey. What a precious gift she gave me, without even knowing the entire background story. I wear that ring each day and while it's not the exact same ring that Grandma and Grandpa gave me, it brings a smile to my heart and comforts me.
Grandma Myrt had a wonderful collection of turquoise. She was always so careful in her purchases. She never wanted to appear gaudy or tacky in any way so she would only wear one or two pieces at a time. She was petite and I remember her saying that one should never wear overly large jewelry, even costume jewelry. She said that it would overpower our natural beauty. I loved looking at her hands and touching her rings. She had the most beautiful and elegant hands that I have ever seen. She was 52 when I was born, not necessarily old but not a young woman either. I've often wondered how different her hands were when she was twenty-one and first married. I can remember each crease, each wrinkle, every line, and how her rings fit on each finger. I must have appeared strange while staring at their hands. I don't know why I was so fascinated by their hands and their rings. I'm glad that I have those visual memories stored in my heart. I can see my grandpa Zim's hands holding a pencil, working on a design project at his drafting table in the garage. I can see Grandma's fingers glide across the keys of her organ and hear the occasional click that her long nails make as they touch the ivory. She took lessons and practiced almost daily, a hobby that she took up when I was little. Grandpa would hold my hand when we'd walk through a parking lot and I loved how rough and masculine his hands felt. He passed away last fall. I was given his turquoise ring and I knew that it was too big for me to wear. I certainly did not want this beautiful ring to sit in a box to never be enjoyed. I went to one of our local jewelers, J. Tabor, with an idea of turning the ring into a pendant that I could wear with a silver chain. He was able to create a masterpiece. It is exactly what I wanted and so much more than I hoped for. He kept the shape of the ring on the underside of the stones. The curve in the ring, where my Grandpa's finger touched it, is still there. Sometimes, when I wear it, I smooth my finger over that curve and close my eyes and think of the many times I held his hand, the many times that he wiped my tears, comforted me and held me. When I wear my Grandpa's ring, I feel safe, secure and loved. His spirit is always with me but I especially feel it on the days when I have the pendant on.

Flea Market

Oh, the treasures you can find at a flea market! Locally, at least within a 45 minute drive from our house, there is a great flea market, held three times a year; Memorial Day weekend, the weekend for 4th of July and Labor Day. Last year we didn't have the greatest luck with the weather. Spring and early summer in this part of the state are quite unpredictable when it comes to weather. It can change at a moments notice sometimes and end up making the weather forecasts look more like comic strips. Since this has sort of become a yearly tradition for my husband and I, we dressed warm, and headed out. We had worked for 12 days straight and needed to spend our weekend doing something fun. The previous day we went to the theater to see a movie, which is something we don't do often enough. We are incredibly fortunate to have a wonderful historic theater right downtown. After seeing movies there for the last five years, it would be incredibly difficult to go back to the big city and view a movie in one of their megaplexes. Yesterday was flea market day. We decided that we'd take our dog. She needs the socialization and many folks bring their four legged friends along. This flea market is held in a small mountain town, where snowmobiles and four- wheelers are king. Vendors come from all over, bringing all sorts of treasures to sell. As we peruse the many tables and stands filled with items, I need to remember that one man's trash is another man's treasure. I'm always on the lookout for vintage or rare cookbooks to add to my ever increasing collection. Luckily, I found two. Rock Creek Hubby never has anything in particular in mind. He always says that he'll know it when he sees it. He found a used skill saw for $5.00 which we both thought was a pretty good deal. I've never seen it as crowded as it was yesterday. I love to see local events grow, it's good for the community. Sometimes we can see things we'd like but don't need, then we play that wonderful mental game of either talking ourselves out of buying it or convincing ourselves that we definitely do not need that particular item. I really enjoy watching other folks shop. Everyone is on a mission of some sort. Some of the things that I wouldn't give a second look to seem to interest others to no end. And the men....oh my goodness. They either appear interested, as if they actually want to be there, or they look very out of place and uncomfortable. I'll have to admit, just the experience of it all is fun and entertaining.
I can't recall ever going to a flea market as I was growing up. Grandma and Grandpa weren't really the yard sale type. They attended a Christian Camp up in the mountains and the camp would hold a yearly auction and yard sale. They brought back interesting things each time. I did go to a few swap meets that were held in the parking lot of closed down drive-in theater. But now that I've been to a flea market, and know what fun they can be, I think I'll continue going each and every year. The food alone is entertainment! How often do we have the opportunity to eat fresh Kettle Corn, deep fried pickles and Twinkies or roasted corn on the cob? Every single food vendor that we passed had a line of people. It was pure excitement. How do you choose which treat to enjoy? And watching our diet on a day like this? Where is the fun in that? 
I love that there is a good mixture of new, used and antique items. It makes for a really interesting day. I wonder what Grandma and Grandpa would have thought of the menagerie of items and people? I think they would have enjoyed it just as much as I did.

Greek Chicken with Vegetables and Potatoes

Greek Chicken with Vegetables and Potatoes

On my quest for healthier recipes, I purchased a new cookbook, something I love to do. My collection continues to grow. This book has some pretty amazing recipes, all under 400 calories each. And a lot of information on better options when cooking and eating out. I don't think that each and every meal should be 100% "Healthy." That simply isn't realistic for our lifestyle. We enjoy junk food and treats once in a while but realize that it needs to be in moderation. For most of the week, we limit our calorie intake, and we basically earn our treats. It doesn't always work out that way, sometimes we give into temptation more than we should. But for the most part, we are on a good path as far as food is concerned. I've managed to talk Rock Creek Hubby into trying a much wider variety of foods than he used to. Which is incredibly helpful since I like to cook so much. It would put a damper on the whole experience if I had to cook for a picky eater. Grandma Myrt didn't have much tolerance for people that were unwilling to try new things. She figured that if she put in the effort and time to prepare a good meal, the least folks could do was to eat it. I have a relative that will not eat anything green. Anything. I cannot even imagine cooking for this person. It would drastically limit the variety of meals that would be brought to the table. And what a sad way to live...there are so many wonderful foods out there. Who wants to eat the same thing over and over? Not me.
When I saw this recipe for Greek Chicken, I knew right away that I'd eventually try it. I love Greek food. Years ago, when I was a waitress, I worked for a Greek restaurant where everything was made from scratch. I hadn't had much experience with Greek food before that, other than enjoying Baklava and Gyros. I learned so much while working there. The owner encouraged his employees to sample everything on the menu. It was important to him for us to know what we were selling. I loved the way he prepared Spanokopita. I have yet to find a restaurant that makes it as good. His mother in law made the Baklava and it was to die for! And impossible to eat just one small piece. So began my love of Greek/Mediterranean food.
This recipe calls for Kalamata Olives, which are a bit pricey but so worth it. They add such a great flavor to the chicken and vegetables. We've decided that orange bell peppers are so much better than green, at least in this dish. Next time, I'll make a few minor changes but overall, this was a hit. I love dishes that smell as good as they look. The entire time this was in the oven, we were watching the clock, mouths watering, stomachs growling.

Greek Chicken with Vegetables and Chicken

4 skinless, bone-in split chicken breasts (about 1 1/2 lbs) I used boneless chicken breasts and they cooked just fine
1 medium red bell pepper, seeded and cut into 8 wedges
1 medium green bell pepper, seeded and cut into 8 wedges (next time I'll try red or yellow bell pepper)
3/4 lb Yukon gold potatoes, cut into 12 wedges and microwaved for two minutes
1 medium red onion, cut into 8 wedges
2 medium zucchini, cut into 1/2 " slices
20 pitted Kalamata olives
1 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Juice and grated peel of 1 lemon
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp dried oregano or 1 Tbsp fresh oregano
3/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
3/4 tsp paprika

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Coat a roasting pan with cooking spray, or prepare a 17'x12 rimmed baking pan: Tear off 2 sheets of nonstick aluminum foil, each 24" long. Put the dull (nonstick) sides together and fold over the edge on one side twice, to make a seam. Open up the seam and line and cover the edges of the baking pan. The dull side of the foil should face up.
2. Place the chicken on one side of the pan. Place the bell peppers, potatoes, onion, and zucchini on the other.
3. Puree the olives, olive oil, lemon peel and juice, garlic, oregano, black pepper, and paprika in a small food processor. Spread the puree over the chicken and the vegetables. Toss the vegetables to coat. (I put the veggies in a large bowl to coat them with the puree)
4. Roast, turning the chicken and stirring the vegetables halfway through cooking, for 40-45 minutes, or until a meat thermometer registers 160 degrees when inserted into the thickest part of the chicken. If the chicken is done before the vegetables are tender, remove the chicken and cover with foil. Increase the temperature to 450 and cook the vegetables for an additional 5-10 minutes. Arrange 1 chicken breast and one-quarter of the vegetables on each of the four plates.

Makes 4 servings
Calories: 350