#homemade chicken tenders

[pickyeatercooking]

These homemade chicken tenders were a smash hit for dinner! I made them with fries from the freezer section this time, but I do eventually want to make homemade fries as well.

[casawio]

my balanced dinner of diet dr pepper float

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

God I’m so hungry but the only thing I’m allowed to eat today is cold smooth stuff so my options are milkshake pudding or popsicle 😕 I just want some chicken

[tastyfashow]

TastyFaShow's Homemade Crispy Chicken Tenders Recipe is Available Now on our website. Follow TastyFaShow to see more amazing videos. www.tastyfashow.com

[yummies-tummy-food-blog]

[hopegillespie72]

[recipemagazines]

Amazing Tandoori Chicken Recipe | Tender And Juicy

Tandoori chicken at it best ! It is also known as tandoori murgh. This recipe will help you to make incredibly delicious, tender and juicy chicken. After this recipe, you will not have to go to the restaurant again and again, you can easily make this simple recipe at your home.

https://recipemagazines.com/tandoori-chicken-recipe/

[kaylalikescatsandstuff]

Made some homemade chicken tenders, having an O’doul’s, and watching scary movies while I crochet. 💀 🧶 🍺

Feeling very content right now 🥰

[auggieblogs]

"Totally worth it" | CL16

Charles Leclerc x reader Author's note: Hey, hiiii, loves. I hope you all are doing good!!! This fic is inspired by that one episode of "How I Met Your Mother"... you'll figure out which one. Happy reading, everyone<3

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

The sound of footsteps echoed through the house, signalling Charles' return from the grocery store. You were curled up on the couch, feeling absolutely miserable with a cold and a slight fever. Your tissues were piled up beside you, and you had a blanket draped over your shivering form. The room felt cold despite the heater being on, and you couldn't help but sigh in discomfort.

Charles burst into the living room, carrying bags of your favourite snacks and a brown paper bag from the drug store. "I'm back, amor," he announced with a warm smile, placing the bags on the coffee table.

You smiled weakly in response, appreciating his effort to make you feel better. "Thank you, baby", you mumbled, your voice hoarse.

Charles came over, his brows furrowed with concern and felt your forehead. "You're still warm," he said softly. He then fetched a thermometer from the medicine cabinet and sat down beside you. "Open up for me, y/n." He gently placed the thermometer under your tongue and waited patiently. After a moment, he checked it and smiled, "Your fever has gone down a little bit."

You sighed in relief as he kissed your forehead, his lips warm and comforting. Charles turned on Gilmore Girls, and fluffed the pillows behind your head. He snuggled up beside you, gently kissing your knuckles.

As the day turned into evening, Charles decided it was time to make you some dinner. He headed to the kitchen, despite his terrible cooking skills, he was determined to make you some homemade chicken noodle soup. He had learned the recipe from his mother and hoped that he could manage it for your sake. You could hear him pottering about and occasionally muttering to himself.

Charles prepared the soup with love and care, making sure the broth was just right, the noodles were cooked to perfection, and the vegetables were tender. He even added a little extra seasoning, just the way you liked it.

He eventually returned with a steaming bowl of soup, a proud smile on his face. "Here you go, my love," he said, sitting beside you.

Now, I know I'm not the best cook," he admitted, "but this is the one dish my mum taught me to make. I hope it's not too terrible."

You couldn't help but laugh, a sound that turned into a coughing fit. Charles quickly handed you a glass of water before blowing on the soup to cool it down. He took a spoonful and carefully brought it to your lips. "Here, amor, let's see if it's edible."

You took a tentative sip, surprised by the taste. It was actually quite good. You nodded and smiled as Charles fed you spoonfuls, his eyes never leaving your face.

Once you had eaten, he gently wiped your mouth with a napkin and placed the empty bowl on the nightstand. Then, he tucked you back in bed, ensuring you were snug and comfortable.

He leaned in to kiss you goodnight, but you stopped him, concern in your eyes. "You don't want to kiss me, you'll get sick, Charlie."

He didn't say anything but held your face in his hands and kissed you sweetly. He'd risk a cold to take care of you.

Charles climbed into bed with you, a book in hand, and began to read aloud. His voice was soothing, and you slowly drifted off to sleep.

A few days later, it was his turn to succumb to the cold. You found him wrapped in a cocoon of blankets on the couch, looking miserable and adorable all at once. You prepared a warm bowl of soup and fed it to him, blowing on it just as he had done for you.

As you sat by his side, feeding him spoonfuls of soup, Charles couldn't help but smile through his stuffed nose.

"Totally worth it," he mumbled between bites, making you giggle.

[tastyfashow]

TastyFaShow's Homemade Crispy Chicken Tenders Recipe is Available Now on our website. Follow TastyFaShow to see more amazing videos. www.tastyfashow.com

[sweets3rial]

friday, i'm in love

inspired by the request

di!leon x gn!reader

summary: your favorite agent surprises you with a very unexpected home coming.

tags: domestic fluff, no smut, sexual innuendos, reader is a good cook, reader uses pimple cream, mentions of a future family (give leon his family pls), leon is a horny freak, the song 'Friday, I'm in Love' by The Cure

word count: 1.2k

bass and drums echoed off the walls of your kitchen, the rhythmic lyrics and uplifting guitar put an instant smile onto your face as you jumped around with a spatula in your hand. you shouted out the lyrics, singing with your heart's content.

occasionally going back to flip the chicken breast, tender and juicy on the inside with a nice crunchy crust on the outside. today was one of those days when you were finally able to muster up the energy to cook a homemade meal.

both you and your boyfriend's favorite, chicken alfredo. a staple in your household and one you’re especially good at. you enjoyed being in the kitchen, you didn’t mind it actually. cooking was one of your hobbies and some people say you were just naturally born to cook … and well dance.

jumping around in circles, in your pajamas, with the smell of chicken and pasta in the air.

your lovely boyfriend was away on a mission, risking his life for the world and you couldn’t be more prouder. but you also couldn’t be more worried. every night that he was not in your bed only added to your anxiety.

you were always in a slum when he was away. dragging yourself around the house and cuddling into his pillow that smelt of his shampoo. though, this morning after receiving a prompt text that he was to be back tomorrow, you were instantly pulled back into a better mood.

he was as well. he didn’t expect to finish so early, the nurses cleared him and his reports were done. he was going to be going home to the love of his life. the whole drive home, he was occupied with the thought of what you were going to be doing.

you always had a surprise up your sleeve for him.

will you be sleeping? or would you be on the couch watching your favorite show? would you be out? would you be home? (most likely) would you be in bed waiting for him? with that gorgeous lace set he bought you the other week.

goosebumps ran down his spine at the thought of you waiting in bed for him. if so, his clothes would disappear from his body in a blink.

as he pulled up into your shared condo, he could hear the faint sound of music. was it from someone's radio? upon getting closer to the condo, he realized, it was probably you.

the song, ‘Friday I’m in Love’ by The Cure played on your speaker, the one he got you for Christmas. he smiled to himself, and he could practically hear you singing wailing at the top of your lungs.

you were so occupied, that you didn’t hear the jangle of keys coming from the other side of the front door. so occupied in singing at the top of your lungs rather than paying attention to everything around you, including your cooking.

as you were taking out the chicken breast and cutting it into slices. so-called lovely boyfriend walked into the house, shouting out, “babe?” he was sure you couldn’t hear him, given the fact that he could hear the bass and faint lyrics coming from outside of your condo.

he peeked inside, following the sound of music and your voice into the kitchen — along with the smell of salty and garlicky goodness. he smiled, slowly creeping into his own house.

his heart was beating with anticipation and he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. once he rounded the corner and into the kitchen, he was welcomed with the view of you rocking your head back and forth, whilst cutting up food.

your back was turned to him and you were singing at the top of your lungs. his little bird, always singing. whether it was in the shower, or the kitchen, or the yard. music was your second most favorite thing after him.

he leaned onto the counter behind you, admiring the way you just existed.

hair messy and frizzy, fuzzy socks on, detailed pajama bottoms, just you. being home and doing your own thing. he loved it.

he loved coming home to you. it didn’t matter if you were awake or sleeping. mad or sad. he just loved coming home to you, to be around your beauty and your grace. even in your three-day-old pajamas with a few dabs of pimple cream on your cheeks and forehead.

slowly, he stalked behind you. opening up his arms widely, before clamping them shut around you.

first, you felt someone grab you. they muscular arms with a tight but gentle grip, holding your wrists and hugging your arms to your sides.

then, it was a loud shout of the words. “it’s Friday! i’m in love!”

you shouted out, jumping about a whole foot off the ground. your reaction earned you a throaty laugh from your captor, or in other words your boyfriend.

you were quick to recognize his laugh, whipping around with knife still in hand, you were met his his wide grinning face and head of brown hair.

“you asshole!” you shouted over your music, slapping him with your free hand while the other placed your knife down. his hands found the purchase of your hips, pulling you closer to him and nuzzling his nose against yours.

you jumped up to wrap your arms around his neck, practically knocking him over, “when’d you land? i thought you were going to be away for another day!”

you pulled away, looking him in the face and instantly checking for any injuries. thankfully, there were none.

“i landed early,” he took a small pause, taking in the look of your wide eyes and your fluttering lashes.

“you didn’t hear me come in, sweets?” he asked, cupping your cheek.

you shoved him away, “no, i could’ve stabbed you.”

“which is why i held you down.”

“i know! but don’t do that!” you whined, tempted to hit him again.

he couldn’t help but smile wider, leaning down and placing a long and deep kiss over your lips. god, he loved coming home to this. coming home to you. he couldn’t wait for the day you’d make him a father. the day he’d not only come home to one, but to two.

a little mini you or mini him, running around the house, babbling out incoherent words. he’s had dreams, the little baby would have his eyes and your hair. your nose and your cheeks. he’d have a whole nursery set up just for them.

boy or girl, it didn’t matter to him. as long as he was blessed with the title of being their father and being your husband.

one day, he said to himself. one day.

he pulled away, placing another kiss on your nose.

“you look so beautiful, y’know that?”

“stop, i have my acne cream on,” you said with a crinkle of your nose.

“but it’s lovely,” he hummed, tickling at your sides.

you elbowed him away, still annoyed at the fact he scared you, but also happy that he was home. you missed him, you always do.

“i’m making your favorite,” you told him, turning around. he instantly caught you again, wrapping his heavy arms around you and leaning his body weight onto you.

his head sunk into your shoulder, taking a deep breath of your softener along with the scent of butter and seasoning. he sighed out into you, his hot breath seeping through your sweater and onto your skin.

“what do you want for dessert, hm?” you asked, turning your head to face him.

you watched a smirk slowly spread over his cheeks.

“you.”

“god, i can’t catch a break.”

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

[foodffs]

This sheet pan Italian Chicken is tender marinated chicken breasts and assorted veggies seasoned and roasted to golden perfection. It is a quick and easy dinner that the whole family enjoys! Serve this tasty dish with garlic knots and homemade lemonade.

[laurellament]

Homemade chicken and dumplings! First meal in the new place

Made with the chicken stock I made earlier, potatoes, carrots, onion, garlic, and shallots. I used two chicken breasts, two tenders, and a thigh

[appalamutte]

you’re sixteen-years-old, moseying through your local bookstore when you come across it.

you’re not usually into nonfiction, especially not memoirs, but the man on the cover is familiar. laughing over his shoulder with his eyes closed, relaxed in a turquoise button-up and jeans, standing with his back to the camera at a counter cluttered with leafy vegetables and mixing bowls.

from seeds to supper, the title reads, and his name is eric bittle-zimmermann.

you deliberate for a bit, picking it up and reading the blurb, the reviews printed on the back sleeve, the first page. the very first words of the book are hey, y’all! and your friend walks over at that point, and they see him and say—“oh, i used to watch some of his videos.”

so you buy it, because your friend said you should, and later that night you’re already deep into the stories of peach cobbler recipes and learning how to differentiate between living and surviving when they send you the link to the guy’s old youtube channel. it hasn’t been active for a few years, but that doesn’t matter because oh my god are there so many videos. years of videos, almost a decade’s worth, starting all the way back in the early 2010s and you get sucked into them all, laughing at the funny ones and tearing up at the emotional ones, watching as the guy slowly grows up from high school to college and beyond.

you switch between reading the memoir and watching the videos over the next few weeks. you see his video on introducing his boyfriend and you read the chapter on maple-crusted apple pie and how learning to love is a lot like learning to lattice a pie, slow and patient and sometimes messy.

you see his cooking challenge video featuring all of his friends from college and you read the chapter on homemade bagel bites and how family doesn’t have to be a four-course meal you’ve had reservations for all your life. sometimes, family is just frozen bagel bites and sriracha sauce crowded around an uneven table.

you see his two-part wedding vlog posted in 2019, nearly 10 years ago, and you read his chapter on red velvet cake and how the brain can get confused, something to do with all the nerve endings getting tangled up, because when love reaches the same heights fear does, you end up fainting into your then-boyfriend’s arms.

then, you see his final video on the channel, a farewell to his subscribers and a glimpse as to what’s next. it’s short and simple, just his husband and him sitting on a couch together, a toddler between them. and you read the last chapter of the book on chicken tenders and how a seed in the garden never knows it’ll grow into a supper worth loving. it just knows it’ll grow into something, and that the growing takes time.

(a few years later, when you’re twenty and in college, you’re downtown with some friends and come across it. you still aren’t into nonfiction that much, but that one memoir always stuck with you, sitting on your shelf back in your dorm. and this one, with the guy’s back to the camera, tall and steadfast, standing in the middle of an ice rink, an emboldened number one across the back of his jersey. the name is familiar.

melting ice, the title reads, and his name is jack bittle-zimmermann.

you pick it up.)

[wilbursprincess]

PART 4 OF PRINCE WILBUR, PART 3 GAVE ME MEMORIES OF ROMEO AND JULIET ELOPING

-✨

Arranged Marriage With Princebur Pt. 4

Princebur x Female Reader

Warnings: No angst this time. Fluff, smut, all the feel good reads!

Fourth and final part of this story :) Love that everyone’s loved Princebur, and maybe I’ll have some more oneshots of him and reader that take place after this story!

Headcannons below cut!

~You two end up settling on a bit of land across the border, a cozy cottage nestled in the woods, a stream running through the pretty hills.

~To afford some furniture, you sell all the jewels and clothes from your old life, which gives you just enough for a rough wooden table, two chairs, and a perfectly cozy bed.

~Wilbur teaches himself to chop firewood to keep you two warm, and you set to work learning how to plant crops and keep animals, cooking simple yet delicious meals for two every day.

~He’s so tender and loving, the best husband you could ask for.

~You both wake with the sun each morning, Wilbur heading outside to milk the cow and collect eggs from the chickens that you’ll scramble up with homemade toast and hand churned butter for breakfast.

~One morning, he comes back to your little home with a mewling kitten in his arms, looking proud of himself.

~”Well, he was all alone by himself! I couldn’t leave him there, could I?”

~Soon after, in addition to your cow and chickens, you have three cats and two dogs. The dogs are allegedly to protect the animals, but Wilbur insists they sleep in the bed with you two and the cats each night.

~Wilbur feels so bad for basically ignoring your existence when you still lived in the castle, blaming himself for not wanting to own up for his feelings and begs to make it up to you.

~And oh, man, did he make it up to you.

~Being alone in a cozy thatched cottage with a lot of pent up energy…

~You were surprised that your family was limited to you two and a bunch of animals with how much he was pawing at you.

~Besides, when the sun went down, and the only light was coming from the fireplace… what else was there to do?

~The life you lived in luxury, with silk gowns, diamond jewels dripping from your neck and ears, staff waiting on you hand and foot, to waking up with the sun to feed the animals in the mud and rain… it was night and day difference.

~You’d often walk up to the small town, where they had a farmers market every Sunday.

~Your homemade bread and pastries were a favorite, and with the money from selling them, you took up a few hobbies.

~Knitting, crocheting, and painting were your favorites, and occasionally, Wilbur would join in the painting.

~Truth be told, he was awful, but you enjoyed spending time with him.

~This was the happiest life you’d ever known, and you couldn’t imagine living without the animals and your clingy-yet-loving husband.

[foodshowxyz]

Spicy Chashu Ramen with Soft Boiled Egg (Serves 2)

Ingredients:

Ramen Broth (store-bought or homemade - chicken or pork recommended)

For the Chashu Pork:

1 lb boneless pork belly

4 cloves garlic, smashed

1 inch ginger, peeled and sliced

½ cup soy sauce

¼ cup mirin

2 tablespoons sake

2 tablespoons brown sugar

4 cups water

Ramen noodles (fresh or dried according to package instructions)

2 large eggs

1 can (14 oz) bamboo shoots, sliced

4 scallions, thinly sliced (separate white and green parts)

2 sheets nori, cut into thin strips

Chili oil (to taste)

Instructions:

Marinate the Chashu Pork: In a large pot, combine garlic, ginger, soy sauce, mirin, sake, brown sugar, and water. Bring to a simmer, then reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Add pork belly and ensure it's submerged in the marinade. Cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or ideally overnight.

Cook the Chashu Pork: Bring the marinade in the pot to a simmer. Cover and simmer for 1.5-2 hours, or until pork is very tender. Remove pork and let cool slightly in the marinade. Once cool enough to handle, thinly slice the pork belly against the grain. Reserve the remaining marinade for later.

Soft Boil the Eggs: Place eggs in a pot and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, then immediately remove from heat and cover for 7 minutes for a runny yolk, or 9 minutes for a slightly firmer yolk. Drain hot water and run cold water over the eggs to stop the cooking process. Peel and set aside.

Prepare the Ramen: Cook ramen noodles according to package instructions. While noodles are cooking, heat reserved marinade in a saucepan.

Assemble the Ramen: Divide broth between two serving bowls. Add cooked ramen noodles, then top with sliced chashu pork, bamboo shoots, white parts of scallions, and a soft-boiled egg (cut in half if desired). Drizzle with chili oil to taste.

Garnish and Serve: Top each bowl with green parts of scallions and nori strips. Enjoy immediately!

Tips:

Leftover chashu pork can be stored in the marinade in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.

For a richer broth, you can add a tablespoon of butter or sesame oil to each bowl before serving.

Want to make your own chili oil? Simply infuse neutral oil with crushed red pepper flakes for a few days.

Experiment with other toppings! Popular options include corn, bean sprouts, wood ear mushrooms, and seaweed salad.