This is the perfect meal in our home.
We have chicken to please Mr. How Sweet.
And wine to enchant my tastebuds.
Marriage is all about balance and compromise.
About a year ago, Mr. How Sweet became a little obsessed with sangria.
Mind you, for years I had been telling him how delicious it was, but he was never interested in trying it then.
I believe he first tried it on a business trip when a bunch of manly men decided to drink fruity drinks. He then proceeded to go on a 4-month sangria binge, even making his own at home.
Now it has gone by the wayside – he quickly grew sick of it just like his other binges – diet Mountain Dew, plain egg whites, and cherry chapstick. Don’t ask.
I love sangria and would gladly bathe in it if I could. I decided to reel Mr. How Sweet back on the sangria bandwagon with this chicken.
Honestly, could it get much better for Mr. How Sweet? Not only does he become reunited with his beloved sangria, but he gets his daily overdose of protein.
I don’t know about you, but booze + protein = happy husband. Which keeps me sane.
And we all know, happy wife = happy life.
I think I am pretty good at math.
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups dry red wine
3/4 cup sweet orange marmalade
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 cup seedless red grapes, halved
1 lime, cut into wedges
salt & pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 425.
Heat a skillet on medium-high heat and add olive oil. Brown chicken on both sides and add to a baking dish. Roast until cooked through – about 15-20 minutes.
While chicken is cooking, simmer wine and marmalade until thickened and reduced to about a cup. Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice. Add to baking dish with chicken, and roast for 10-15 minutes more.
Garnish with grapes and lime wedges.
This dish was so tasty. And I’m not just saying that because I finished off the bottle of cabernet before dinner.
I really love fruit with my chicken. I think warm fruit is delicious in savory dishes.
However, it’s only natural since I love sweets so much.
I also love bacon with my chocolate.
But that’s another story.