logo
Chicken Picadillo

Chicken Picadillo

Epoch Times26-04-2025
By Linda Gassenheimer
Tribune News Service
Picadillo is a popular Latin dish made with ground meat, onions, green bell pepper, tomato sauce, capers, and raisins. The success of this dish lies in the blending of sweet and savory flavors.
I have captured the essence of its taste and texture in this 15-minute, no-fuss dinner using ground chicken as the main ingredient for a lighter result. It only takes a few minutes to gather the ingredients, but they all cook together in less than 15 minutes.
I find that this is a quick and easy meal to have on hand. It freezes well, so I often make double the recipe and save half for another meal.
Helpful Hints
1 teaspoons minced garlic can be used instead of crushed garlic.
Any type of green salad can be served with the picadillo.
Fresh diced onion or green bell pepper can be used instead of frozen. Cook them a couple of minutes longer.
Countdown
Assemble ingredients.
Make the picadillo.
Make the rice.
Shopping List
To buy: 3/4 pound ground white meat chicken breast, 1 container reduced sodium tomato sauce, 1 small bottle Worcestershire sauce, 1 bottle distilled white vinegar, 1 small bottle capers, 1 small box raisins, 1 package microwaveable brown rice, 1 bag frozen diced onion, 1 bag frozen diced green bell pepper, 1 bag washed, ready-to-eat lettuce.
Staples: canola oil, garlic, salt, and black peppercorns.
Chicken Picadillo
Serves 2
4 teaspoons canola oil, divided use
1 cup frozen diced onion
1 cup frozen diced green bell pepper
2 medium garlic cloves, crushed
3/4-pounds ground white meat chicken breast
2 cups low-sodium, tomato sauce
2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
2 tablespoons capers
1/4 cup raisins
2 tablespoons distilled white vinegar
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
microwaveable brown rice to measure 1 cup cooked
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 cups washed, ready-to-eat lettuce.
1 tablespoon reduced-fat oil and vinegar dressing
Heat 2 teaspoons oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat and add the onions, green pepper, garlic, and ground chicken. Saute 3 to 4 minutes, breaking up the chicken into small pieces as it cooks. You can use the edge of a cooking spoon to break up the chicken. Add the tomato sauce and sauté until the sauce starts to bubble, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add Worcestershire, capers, raisins, and vinegar. Reduce heat to medium and cook gently for about 3 to 4 minutes. Add Salt and pepper. Divide in half and place on 2 dinner plates. Microwave the brown rice according to the package instructions. Measure 1 cup and save the remaining rice for another meal. Toss the rice with the remaining 2 teaspoons of oil. Divide the rice in half and place on the plates with the picadillo. Serve a little washed, ready-to-eat lettuce on the side with the dressing.
Related Stories
4/19/2022
7/30/2024
Per serving: 612 calories (23 percent from fat), 15.8 g fat (2.1 g saturated, 7.5 g monounsaturated), 126 mg cholesterol, 47.1 g protein, 72.9 g carbohydrates, 9.5 g fiber, 461 mg sodium.
Dear Readers: We would love to hear from you. What topics would you like to read about? Please send your feedback and tips to
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Margo Hall, first woman principal at Leon High, leaves vibrant legacy
Margo Hall, first woman principal at Leon High, leaves vibrant legacy

Yahoo

time3 days ago

  • Yahoo

Margo Hall, first woman principal at Leon High, leaves vibrant legacy

Margo Hall, the energetic Latin teacher to Tallahassee, and the first ever woman principal at Leon High School died Aug. 1 at age 84. Hall taught Latin at Godby, Lincoln, Leon and Trinity Catholic, and was principal at Leon from 2001-2005. A vivacious phenomenon, Hall was many times an educational award-winner, as well as wife, mother, and scholastic inspiration to a generation of Tallahassee young people. Michael Hall, her youngest son, spoke with the Tallahassee Democrat from his home in California about the legacy his mother left, and about the many students who unexpectedly found life lessons that he himself carries forward in Hall's disciplined yet passionate love of Latin. 'My mother was an engine of action,' he said. 'She has always been my hero, my idol. She had a mantra that she lived by and imparted. It goes: ' 'Do all the good you can, in all the ways you can, to all the souls you can, in every place you can, at all times you can, with all the zeal you can, as long as ever you can.' ' Hall says he doesn't believe she ever let go of that dedication. Margaret O'Conner Hall was born in Jacksonville. Along with her mother, an anesthesiologist, and father, a psychiatrist and surgeon, and three little brothers, the family moved to Chattahoochee. Hall attended a Catholic girl's school in Louisiana, and went on to Barry College in Miami Shores, where on a full scholarship she majored in English, Latin, and history, graduating summa cum laude, as president of her class. Hall went on to earn her Master's degree from Florida State University in Latin, and to wed a young Air Force captain. Moving to four different states and beginning their family, Hall lived the life of a devoted wife and mother until the family's return to Tallahassee in 1971. And then, using her 'Latin' credentials, Hall began what would become a 44-year commitment to essentially every high school in the city of Tallahassee, where she went from teaching Latin part-time to becoming Dean of Students, Assistant Principal, Principal, Leon County Interim Executive Director for Special Programs, and finally, becoming one of the driving forces for and the Assistant Principal of St. John Paul II High School. In her early days in Tallahassee, always committed to her growing family, Hall taught Latin students at Godby High School for 10 years, then part-time at Godby and Lincoln High School at the same time. From 1980 until 1994, she became Leon High's full-time Latin teacher, tutoring at Trinity Catholic School on the side. She remained at Leon to become the Dean of Students in 1994, then Lincoln's Assistant Principal in 1997 for the next four years. Hall returned to Leon High as Principal from 2001-2005, then after serving with the County, she worked as Assistant Principal until her retirement in 2015 at St. John Paul II High School. Suggesting some of the spontaneity and personality that drew people to Hall, a colleague and admirer had written in a recommendation letter that: 'Margo sparkles. She is so full of vitality, of energy, of enthusiasm that one cannot help but feel that way too. When Margo steps into a classroom, it immediately becomes a more interesting place to be.' And the plaudits and responsibilities began to accumulate: Outstanding Teacher from Florida, The Education Committee of the States, 1987; Florida Teacher of the Year Finalist, Florida Foreign Language Association, 1989; sponsor of the student Latin club, Rebus Ghestis. Chairman, Leon County Language Teachers Association. She became President of the Junior League; was on the Governor's Council for Juvenile Justice; a member of the Tallahassee Garden Club, on the Boards of Blessed Sacrament and St. Thomas Moore congregations; a Board Member of Goodwood Museum; and on Board of Directors of the Tallahassee Junior Museum. Her son, Michael, who had her as his Latin teacher when he attended Leon High, said, 'I had to be kept in line, it's true, but her work ethic and study habits transferred to me.' He would go on to spend several years teaching Latin at Maclay School. Yet what he remembers most is Margo's brilliant smile, her generous heart, and the little details of her life after retirement in 2018: 'It was fun watching her devour her historical fiction,' he said. 'How she loved the beach and traveling in the mountains, wandering old pottery shops, and soft music.' And he suspects there are hundreds of former students who may love those things too, but who are also fascinated by languages and who always turn their work in early — all as a result of a semester spent with Margo Hall. A rosary service is planned for 1-1:30 p.m. Aug. 23 with a funeral mass to follow at the Co-Cathedral of St. Thomas More. This article originally appeared on Tallahassee Democrat: Margo Hall, former Leon principal and Latin teacher, dies at 84 Solve the daily Crossword

The Centuries-Old Quest for 'Genius'
The Centuries-Old Quest for 'Genius'

Atlantic

time4 days ago

  • Atlantic

The Centuries-Old Quest for 'Genius'

This is an edition of Time-Travel Thursdays, a journey through The Atlantic 's archives to contextualize the present. Sign up here. 'When Paul Morphy plays seven games of chess at once and blindfold, when young Colburn gives impromptu solution to a mathematical problem involving fifty-six figures, we are struck with hopeless wonder,' J. Brownlee Brown wrote in 1864. His Atlantic article had a simple headline: 'Genius.' Only seven years after the founding of this magazine, its writers were already addressing one of the greatest questions of the 19th century: How should we define genius, that everyday word we use to denote the extraordinary? Brown's two geniuses are largely forgotten today. Morphy was a chess wizard from New Orleans who grew tired of the game and gave up playing seriously at just 22. He reportedly died in his bath at age 47. Zerah Colburn's story is even more tragic: As a child, he wasn't thought to be particularly gifted until his father overheard him repeating multiplication tables after only a few weeks' schooling. The little boy from Vermont was then dragged around Europe as a 'mental calculator,' ruling on whether large numbers were primes or not, and sent to an expensive school thanks to the patronage of an earl. But like many child prodigies, his adult life was a comparative disappointment. He died of tuberculosis at 34. While researching my new book, The Genius Myth, I spent a lot of time exploring how we tell stories of exceptional achievement, and what the changing definition of genius reveals about the history of Western thought. The word itself comes from Latin, where it was used to mean a person's spirit—the inner essence that gave them their unique characteristics. 'Every man, says the oracle, has his daemon, whom he is bound to obey; those who implicitly follow that guidance are the prophetic souls, the favorites of the gods,' Frederic Henry Hodge wrote in The Atlantic in 1868. 'It is this involuntary, incalculable force that constitutes what we call genius.' Well into the 20th century, The Atlantic used this older definition, writing about people who possessed a genius, rather than those who were one. Individuals whom this magazine has described as being or having a genius include Richard Strauss, Leo Tolstoy, George Gershwin, Cormac McCarthy, Alice Munro, and Edith Wharton, that last accolade having been delivered by Gore Vidal. Oh, plus the 23-year-old hockey player Bobby Orr, the children's cartoon Rugrats, and the shopping channel QVC. This proclamation makes for great copy, because it is deeply subjective. Christopher Hitchens was prepared to call the poet Ezra Pound a genius, but not the acclaimed mystery author Dorothy L. Sayers, whose work he dismissed as 'dismal pulp.' (I know whose work I would rather read.) In 1902, a female writer for this magazine airily declared that there were no great women writers to compare with Juvenal, Euripides, and Milton. 'George Eliot had a vein of excellent humor, but she never shares it with her heroes,' argued Ellen Duvall, adding that Jane Austen's male heroes were 'as solemn as Minerva's owl.' The science-fiction writer Arthur C. Clarke once wrote that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Something similar is true of geniuses. An earlier age would have attributed Paul Morphy and Zerah Colburn's gifts to divine providence, but in the more secular 19th-century America, another explanation was needed. 'We seek in vain for the secret of this mastery,' wrote Brown of his subjects. 'It is private,—as deeply hidden from those who have as from those who have it not.' For the genius-hunters, one encouraging source for exceptional talent was inheritance. At the time Brown was writing about Morphy and Colburn, academics throughout the Western world were wrestling with the theory of evolution by natural selection, proposed by Charles Darwin only six years earlier. The study of what would later be called genetics promised new methods of understanding genius, that quicksilver quality that seemed so resistant to explanation. The first edition of Hereditary Genius, by Darwin's half-cousin Francis Galton, was published in America in 1870. Galton's work aimed to classify all men into lettered bands, depending on their mental faculties and lifetime achievements. The Atlantic reviewed Hereditary Genius that year, noting that the difference between the men in the upper part of Galton's highest band and those in his lowest band 'represents the difference between Shakespeare and the most degraded idiot mentioned in medical literature.' This was a coldly rational view of genius—more scientific in appearance, but also less humane. Galton went on to coin the term eugenics. His unpublished utopian novel, The Eugenic College of Kantsaywhere, imagined a world where people were allowed to marry only after extensive tests of their fitness to reproduce, and where those who failed were shipped off to labor colonies. Thanks to the popularity of eugenics at the time, what started as an attempt to identify geniuses eventually led the U.S. Supreme Court to justify the forced sterilization of the 'feeble minded' in Buck v. Bell in 1927. Thousands of Americans were subsequently denied the right to have children—an idea that also took hold in Nazi Germany, where an estimated 400,000 people were sterilized under the Hitler regime in the name of 'racial hygiene.' From the start, Galton's ideas about genius were presented in explicitly racial terms: He believed that Europeans were intellectually superior to Africans, and that ancient Athenians were superior to both. The Atlantic, a proudly abolitionist magazine, ran an article that contested this bigotry. In 1893, Havelock Ellis argued that many in the contemporary canon of geniuses had mixed ancestry, from what he called the 'negro blood' that was 'easy to trace in the face of Alexandre Dumas, in certain respects, to the Iroquois blood in Flaubert.' The popular novelist Olive Schreiner's heritage was 'German, English, and Jewish,' Ellis observed, while Thomas Hardy believed his paternal great-grandmother to have been Irish. (Neither Jews nor Irish people would have been considered white, according to popular beliefs of the time.) Today, most modern geneticists acknowledge that intelligence is partially heritable—it can be passed down by parents—but that does not account for the making of a genius. 'We can no more produce a whole race of Newtons and Shakespeares than we can produce perpetual motion,' the anonymous author of the Hereditary Genius review wrote in 1870. A 'genius' can pass on some of their genes, but not their personality—nor the social conditions in which their success happened. That matters. While talking about my book, I've found that acknowledging the role of luck in success makes some people nervous. They think that any discussion of broader historical forces is a covert attempt to debunk or downplay the importance of individual talent or hard work. But even 19th-century Atlantic writers could see the importance of good timing. 'A given genius may come either too early or too late,' William James wrote in 1880. 'Cromwell and Napoleon need their revolutions, Grant his civil war. An Ajax gets no fame in the day of telescopic-sighted rifles.' As we get closer to the present, a note of sarcasm creeps into the word's usage: In the 2000s, the writer Megan McArdle used the recurrent headline 'Sheer Genius' for columns on businesses making terrible errors. But she was far from the first Atlantic writer to use the word sardonically. One of my favorite essays on genius from the archives is a satirical squib from 1900, which masquerades as an ad for a Genius Discovery Company. 'This country needs more geniuses,' the anonymous author wrote. 'Everybody knows it. Everybody admits it. Everybody laments it.' The article urged any reader who wondered whether they might be a genius to write in, enclosing a five-dollar fee, 'and we will tell you the truth by return mail.'

I tried Gordon Ramsay's 10-minute steak sandwich recipe. It was delicious but took me almost an hour to make.
I tried Gordon Ramsay's 10-minute steak sandwich recipe. It was delicious but took me almost an hour to make.

Business Insider

time4 days ago

  • Business Insider

I tried Gordon Ramsay's 10-minute steak sandwich recipe. It was delicious but took me almost an hour to make.

To start, I gathered my ingredients, which included two types of lettuce and many different sauces. Gathering ingredients was surprisingly tricky, as Ramsay didn't always specify how much of each ingredient I would need in his video. I ended up buying a pound of steak, one large red onion (he used two small ones in his video), and two large portobello mushrooms. I substituted the suggested bavette cut for the very similar flank steak, and grabbed arugula instead of watercress, but kept the rest of the ingredients the same. I also took stock of the cookware and kitchen gadgets I needed. I didn't have a grill pan for my stovetop, so I used two cast iron skillets instead. I cut the Ciabatta bread in half and prepped it according to Ramsay's instructions. I poured a generous amount of olive oil on the bread and sprinkled it with a healthy serving of salt, pepper, and red-pepper flakes. Meanwhile, I heated up both cast iron skillets and put half of the bread in each skillet (since it was too big to fit in one). Copying Ramsay's technique, I used a bowl to push the bread down and help it sear. As the bread was toasting, I seasoned the steak with salt and pepper. While I was prepping the steak, the bread began to burn. As much as I love steak, I don't usually make it at home because I'm scared of overcooking it — but it turns out that I had to worry about other ingredients getting overcooked, too. I turned to pull my sandwich bread off the cast iron skillet — and realized one was almost burned in places while the other had the perfect golden shade. I was annoyed at myself for not checking it sooner, but I'd been busy prepping the steak. Once the bread was done, I added the steak to one of the skillets. After the steak was perfectly seasoned, I added some oil to the skillet and started cooking the beef. I then combined portobello mushrooms and onions in the other skillet. Next, I created the glaze. I started working on the glazing sauce, which is made from a combination of Tabasco and Worcestershire sauce. Using a brush, I began painting the steaks and the veggies with the mixture to create a glaze. After glazing the steak and veggies, I created the second sauce. For the second sauce, which is used for drizzling and spreading, Ramsay said to mix 2 teaspoons of mayo, a teaspoon of Dijon mustard, and a tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce. The resulting color and flavor were mostly that of Worcestershire sauce, so I added more mayo until the sauce resembled the one in the video. When the steak looked done, I added Guinness to both pans. Although the instructions said to assemble the sandwich next, the steak looked like it was done. So, I skipped ahead and added Guinness to both the steak and the veggies. Ramsay didn't specify how much Guinness to put in, and I think I may have added too much because the liquid didn't burn off quickly. After letting them simmer in the beer for about five minutes, I took the steak and veggies off the stove to rest. Next, I finally started assembling the sandwich. I brushed the sandwich with the mayo mixture, added a layer of peppery arugula and crunchy lettuce, and seasoned it with salt and pepper, per Ramsay's suggestion. After that, I cut the steak against the grain and was pleased to see that although it wasn't as pink as I normally liked, it wasn't dry, either. Trying Ramsay's layering method, I drizzled more sauce, added the whole portobello mushrooms, and then put the sliced steak on top of that. Another drizzle of sauce and some sprinkles of blue cheese later, I was ready to put the top of the sandwich on and cut it in half to serve. The sandwich was delicious, but getting all the different layers in each bite was hard. This was the first time I'd ever made a steak sandwich, and I was happy that it wasn't tough and chewy when I bit into it. Every ingredient really seemed intentional and had complementing flavors. The Worcestershire, blue cheese chunks, and dijon went well with the grilled meat and mushrooms. The fresh and peppery greens added some crunch to the sandwich. I'm a big fan of red onion, and I think I'd add some more if I were to make this again, as it was hard to get every ingredient into each bite. A surprising star of the show was the red-pepper flakes on the bread, which added a delicious yet subtle heat to the meal. Labeling this as a 10-minute sandwich makes it seem deceptively low-effort, but I still enjoyed it. The recipe was pretty hands-on and stressful, as all the ingredients needed to be cooked in a particular order and, in some cases, at the same time. Taking too long on one step could lead to a component getting overcooked. In addition, Ramsay didn't really give exact timing for each step, so it was hard to know when things were "done." An experienced cook might have a better idea of timing, but I'd recommend avoiding multitasking if you're less experienced. Overall, it ended up taking me 50 minutes to make this sandwich instead of 10, but I'm still really happy with how the finished product turned out. Each ingredient added a delicious pop of flavor, and it wasn't as expensive to make at home as I'd anticipated. I spent a little under $50 for all the ingredients and had plenty left over for additional tries. One sandwich was more than enough for two people, so I'll definitely be trying to recreate this meal again. Next time, however, I'll hopefully nail the steak and bread a little better.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store