So the other day, my kids begged me for some homemade chicken and dumplings. I LOVE chicken and dumplings (or, as we can them: C&Ds), but sadly, Jason and I are on a low carb diet at the moment and we can’t really partake in one of our favorites. Still, it’s an easy enough recipe and my kids begged me enough that I gave in. I decided that now was a good time to teach them how to boil a chicken, since so many recipes begin with a simple boiled chicken and veggies.
Now, we happen to be involved in a food co-op that comes once a month. They offer a mixed vegetable and fruit box that we really enjoy. It introduces us to some things that we might have otherwise not tried on our own. For example, I found that I love kohlrabi and I hate radicchio. (Tip: Do not mistake radicchio for a red cabbage and make coleslaw out of it… In fact, don’t eat that crap at all because it’s horrid, bitter, and will only come in handy if you were starving and it was the only thing left on planet Earth to eat. Same with arugula, but anyway.) Well, this month’s box contained a very dark purple carrot. And when I boil my chicken I add carrots to the mix. So, the kids and I chopped up said purple carrot and I was pleased that it was very sweet. We added onion, celery, a few more carrots, and a sack of leg quarters to the pot and let it come to a boil. Then I turned it to a simmer for about an hour.
When I opened the lid, I was shocked at what I saw:
My delicious homemade chicken broth was purple. Freaking Grimace/Barney/Dino/Grape Ape purple. Chicken broth is NOT SUPPOSED TO BE PURPLE. The Mom Fail alarms were going off in my head. Would my kids eat this? This eight pounds of oddly lilac chicken legs?
When I took the legs from the pot, the skin was also, indeed, a scary shade of lavender and frankly it made my stomach turn. I forced myself to eat a bite to reassure my little pea brain that color really wasn’t an issue. It was very tasty. I continued to make the dumplings and added them to the grape juice-ish broth. When they were done, it looked like this:
It was a great recipe gone terribly wrong. Fortunately, my kids called it “Halloween dumplings” and wolfed it down, praise baby Jesus. And I learned my lesson: Never add a purple carrot to a soup unless you enjoy a Crayola-colored broth that makes you a little nauseated to look at it.
But the story doesn’t end there… Oh no, because God has a great sense of humor. As if it weren’t enough that my stew looked the way it did, I was getting something out of the fridge the next night and moved the tub of C&Ds to get some milk. Suddenly, the tub flew out of the refrigerator one way and the lid went sailing the other. Ice-cold purple dumpling and chicken bits were now running down the freezer handle, under the fridge, on my clothes, and most disgusting of all, in-between my toes.
What else could I do but burst out laughing? My kids thought I had lost it. Maybe I had. This stew had been damned from its creation, so it was only proper that it ended up covering me and half of my kitchen floor.
Beware the purple carrots, friends. You have been warned.