This scrumptious recipe is woman-pleasin’ to the max. I attempted to make it man-pleasin’ as well by sprinkling some bacon on top. The results:
Me: So what do you think? Isn’t this awesome?
My man: Um, well, it’s alright.
Me: “Alright”?? “Alright“?? Are we eating the same dish? Did I not sprinkle enough bacon on? Seriously, you don’t love this?
My man: I mean, it’s okay. I like it fine.
Me: “Okay”??? “Fine”???? *spazzing out*
My man: Yeah, it’s fine. Not mind-blowing, but it’s good.
*at this point I’m passed out on the floor*
So I’m just going to skip the whole burning question that has my mind on fire: did God really create my taste buds so differently from my husband’s? Is it a woman/man thing? Or is he a freak of nature? Or wait, maybe I’m the freak of nature?
3 TBS olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
1.25 lb boneless skinless chicken breasts (1 1/2 breasts)
salt and pepper, to taste
1 lb farfalle (bowtie) pasta
2 14 oz cans artichoke hearts, drained (rinse well if using marinated hearts)
1 stick unsalted butter
1 c heavy whipping cream
1 1/2 c freshly grated parmesan cheese
4 slices bacon, chopped and fried (optional garnish)
1 TBS minced thyme or rosemary leaves (optional garnish)
First, get the pasta water (salted) on the stove so that we can get that farfalle cooked!
I chose to prep my garnish first–don’t ask why that made any kind of sense. I’d fried up some bacon the night before, so I chopped it up nice and fine along with some rosemary.
Thyme is also delicious on this dish. I should note that if you choose to use raw herbs for the garnish (as opposed to cooking the rosemary with the bacon, for example, or adding it to the chicken as it’s frying), chop it up finely! A mouthful of herb can be a rather bitter experience. You want tiny pieces–they pack a whomp.
Now, chop the chicken into bite-sized cubes.
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high to high heat. When it’s hot, add the garlic and chicken.
Immediately sprinkle the chicken with salt and black pepper. Cook for about 5 minutes, until the chicken is starting to look less raw.
Open and drain those artichoke hearts–we don’t want any excess liquid going in.
Add the artichoke hearts, and cook for another 3 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Now you could chop up your artichoke hearts if you want, but I just broke them apart in the pan with my wooden stirring device:
I also used this opportunity to quickly grate the parmesan.
Add the butter to the artichokes and chicken . . .
Once it’s fully melted, add the cream . . .
. . . and parmesan.
Continue to cook for another few minutes until it’s turned into a lovely, thick sauce.
When the pasta is done, pour it into the sauce and stir it around to combine.
Ew. That picture is disturbing, disgusting, and unappetizing. The drips of sauce look like . . . stalactites. Please pretend it never happened.
Let’s serve it up and top it off with some rosemary and bacon pieces.
Much prettier without those stalactites hanging ’round like they do.
You can also grate on a little more Parmesan if that does it for you.
I used one of my favorite Christmas gifts: a microplane zester.
Enjoy, ladies. And . . . men? If your taste buds are so inclined.
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