I'm a decent cook. Some days I consider myself a good cook; every once in awhile I'm inspired. And when I'm inspired as often as not it's for a meal that's cooked in one pot. You might call it stew or soup. I usually call it glop and no two glops are the same.

Last night I was inspired. I made what was essentially a chicken mole but kept playing with it. I dredged chicken in a mixture of flour and mole seasoning, sauted it, then added onions, garlic, potatoes, a can of black beans, more spices (including more mole, pepper, salt and some adobo) and water. I let this all cook for awhile and then tasted it. I found it to be a bit flat, so I added a little more pepper and the magic ingredient: molasses.

Once it cooked down it was wonderful. The sauce was rich and savory, wonderful to eat by itself with bread, while the chicken and beans were tender and delicious. I'm feeling pretty smug about the whole thing. It could have been disastorous, but ended up delightful and perhaps reproducible.

When I die I'll be remembered for my stories and my glop. That's not such a bad thing.

(c) 2008 Laura S. Packer


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