Chicken Corn Chowder

This is one of those “how to feed a family on not much of anything” potato soup recipes, so adjust ingredients or measurements to what you have on hand and season as you please.

Ingredients:

  • 6 to 8 med. Russet potatoes, peeled and sliced into a heavy saucepan.
  • Just enough cold water to almost cover the potatoes
  • 1/2 stick butter (put 3 T. in pan with potatoes and 1 T. into a small skillet)
  • 1 sm. can chicken (drain juice into pan of potatoes, reserve meat for later)
  • 1 env. Goya chicken or a bouillon cube
  • 1/4 c. chopped onion
  • 1/2 c. corn, drained
  • 1/4 c. crumbled cooked bacon, optional
  • 1 T. dried minced chives
  • Salt & Pepper to taste
  • 1/2 c. sour cream
  • 1/4 c. milk or evaporated milk, if needed
  • Cheddar cheese, for garnish

Bring potatoes, water, 3 T. butter, and juice from canned chicken to boil over medium heat. Add chicken broth seasoning.

Meanwhile, saute onion in butter until they start to soften; add corn and bacon bits. Continue to saute until onion is tender.

Add onion mixture to pot of potatoes. Cook until potatoes break easily when stirred or poked with a fork. Reduce heat to low. Add reserved chicken, chives, and sour cream. Think with milk, if desired. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Gently heat through and serve topped with grated cheddar cheese.

VARIATIONS: replace canned chicken with a can of minced clams, add mushrooms. Use chunks of ham or sliced kielbasa instead of chicken, omit bacon. Omit meats and chicken seasoning for just potato soup, toss in leftover veggies, etc.

Is it good? Ask my grandsons. They went from “ewe, I don’t want to eat that” to “umm, this is good” real quick.

My apologies for the lack of step-by-step photos. This isn’t a cooking blog. I just post recipes now and then as someday, those boys might get nostalgic for grandma’s cooking and find this online after I’m long gone. Thanks for reading!

Alas, At Last

I quieted myself. No, I didn’t go underground in isolation. Sometimes, you just need to step back and reevaluate, seek clarity of mind, and step into your own light.

My covid winter was abuzz with activity even though I rarely left the house. Volunteer work for a local community organization was and still is my link to the outside world. I edit their 10 page monthly newsletter. Articles and other content arrive via email so it’s mostly copy, paste, arrange and format. I write the fillers; look for things to fill pages that might be of interest to readers. I also serve on the board and virtually chair a committee.

This old house got my stimulus. I bought lumber, flooring, paint, tools & supplies, some art supplies, a new ceiling fan, chair height toilet, and a frikkin 5 burner stove.

New stove, old floor.
New floor, fake countertop.

Yeah, the counter is fake. It’s temporary, just laminated with contact paper because a sink and new countertops were not in the budget.

It’s a work in progress. What I want to do and can do are not the same. Straight up, disability sucks as it is hard to find people who actually follow through on what I hire them to do.

Everyone thinks their time is worth 40 an hour, too. Now I expect to pay professional rates when hiring licensed skilled professionals or independent contractors with legit businesses and normal overhead, but when I’m hiring someone’s unemployed weedhead brother to do simple things a 12 year old could do, I don’t want to pay more than 15 an hour. Actually, 9 to 12 is fair… that’s what a contractor would pay if they got hired to do the exact same things.

I called a temp agency and asked about hiring part-time day labor. They don’t do that. Maybe I should hire a 12 year old, my granddaughter. I can argue with her when she thinks her time is worth 20.

Tea & Troubles

I put on a pot of tea today, not doing well, weak as hell but can’t complain. Today’s brew is Tawantin Black Tea, which is not as purple as the Peruvian Spiced Berry in the photo’s cup. Yeah, snapped that photo weeks ago in kind of a show n’ tell after my cousin turned me on to Cleveland’s own Inca Tea.

I like the black. To be straight up and honest, I’m not that into tea so I’m still slowly tasting all the varieties that came in the Sample Box. So far, so good… most days, I opt for coffee. Sumatra is my favorite.

As for Troubles… I’ve had enough.

My little mask sewing obsession quieted itself. Suppose I should update Mice4Mars, sell off leftovers on eBay or something, but oh well. I just got tired of assholes claiming this virus would magically disappear on election day, mostly from idiots who now support a wannabe fascist dictator’s attempt to undermine our democratic process by overthrowing the results of an election. People are dying and they don’t care… it’s just a political ploy, a media hoax? Yeah, until you run out of fingers counting names familiar to your own self amongst the critically ill or worse. Bump the conspiracy bull.

I want to make paper.

I don’t have any proper screens for that, but I have two thin wooden picture frames, just cheap things sold as craft supplies to decorate yourself, and some scraps of window screen somewhere in this room. I don’t own a blender either, but I could maybe use one of those bullet smoothie things to make pulp, maybe the cup for chopping nuts. Those 4×6 picture frames would mold 3.75 x 5.75 inch paper, with rounded corners. Folded in half, hand stitched spine, would make nice little books. Or even as flat sheets, I could paint on them or something.

Echo in my head, in sister words: stop making small art.

Why? Is bigger better? Ironically, I’ve always been too big. Everyone always trying to cut me down to size. Too this, too that, too much. Bump that, too.

My cup is empty. Thanks for reading.