Free Fifty Shades of Chicken: A Parody in a Cookbook by F.L. Fowler Page B

chopped fresh basil
    1½ teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
    ½ teaspoon coarse kosher salt
    ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
    3 cups shredded, cooked chicken meat
    Greens or bread, for serving
    Toasted sliced almonds, for serving
    1   In a blender, combine the sour cream, watercress, mayonnaise, garlic, anchovy if using, chives, parsley, basil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Blend until smooth and green.
    2   Combine the chicken with enough of the dressing to richly coat it and toss well. Serve the chicken salad over greens that are drizzled with the remaining dressing and sprinkled with almonds, or make it into sandwiches with your favorite bread.
    LEARNING THE ROPES
    This inner green goddess dressing is also lovely as a dip. Serve it in a bowl surrounded by chips, cut-up veggies, and, if you like, cold slices of cooked chicken.

Whipped Livers
    T he door of the Sub-Zero opens, revealing a kitchen filled with people nibbling on canapés and sipping wine. Ooh, a party. I’m relieved for once not to be the main course.
    Blades appears distracted, chatting with his guests as he reaches for more canapés. Odd, there aren’t any canapés in here. Before I know what’s happening, he reaches discreetly inside me and pulls out my giblets. Now?
    He deftly slides my liver out of its paper envelope, while appearing to focus on his conversation with a talkative fellow holding a napkin.
    “Blades, what are you doing?” I whisper urgently.
    He doesn’t answer, but looks around the room smiling benignly. He continues to fondle my liver with his fingertips until I can’t stand it.
    He gently places my quivering offal into a skillet where some softened onions are waiting for me. Holy fucking shit… we’re cooking in the middle of a party? Everyone’s mingling and chatting, but I am not paying attention. He stirs my insides with a deft wooden spoon, around and around.…
    I squirm and gasp as I feel a hardening in my heated organ.
    “Always so ready, Miss Hen,” he whispers. I make a low hiss of longing. How can he do this with all these people here?
    He nonchalantly carries my blushing liver to the food processor. Oh … how long will he keep escalating this? It makes me feel so—dirty.
    He pulses the machine a few times, whipping me into a soft frenzy. My insides dissolve in ecstasy, my mind a spiral of pure sensation. I can’t hold it together any longer.
    B’gawk , I groan as his long finger continues to hit the pulse button. I’m thankful that the room full of people seems completely oblivious.
    He appears to be perfectly composed. This isn’t fair. He calmly spoons me onto toast and takes a long, slow bite, from which it takes me several minutes to recover.
    “I can’t believe you just did that,” I giggle.
    “You’d be surprised what I can do, Miss Hen.”
    No, nothing about Shifty Blades surprises me anymore.
    chicken liver crostini
    SERVES 6
    ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
    1 small yellow onion, peeled, halved, and thinly sliced
    1 pound chicken livers, patted dry with paper towels and cut in half crosswise
    ½ teaspoon coarse kosher salt
    ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
    2 tablespoons cream sherry or port wine
    ½ tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary leaves
    6 slices country bread, toasted
    Sea salt, for garnish
    1   Heat the oil in a large skillet over high heat, then add the onions and let them get brown and oh so tender, about 12 minutes.
    2   Add the chicken livers and salt and pepper and reduce the heat to medium; cook until the quivering insides of the livers have lightened from crimson to rosy, about 5 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the livers to a food processor.
    3   Turn the heat to high and add the sherry to the skillet with the juices. Cook, scraping up the browned bits, until the juices have thickened, 1 to 2 minutes. Stir in the rosemary.
    4   Scrape the mixture into the food processor. Pulse to whip the livers until they are just broken up, but still chunky