Ellington

My honey and I flew off to Sin City to tie the connubial knot last week. Maybe I have had too much sun (a six-hour golf lesson in the desert will do it), but I have enjoyed being overwhelmed with casinos, contracts and individuals. The whole thing has been a learning experience, even a life lesson. There have been hostile cab drivers, inhospitable hospitality managers and pushy timeshare sales reps. But there have also been genuinely joyful strangers handing out $20 bills after hitting a jackpot, gushing couples walking down the Strip in myriad—but awesomely Vegas—wedding attire, and a host of our close family members living it up with the glee of children.

The differences are circumstantial—everyone has a rough day now and then—but there are deeper differences bred into all of us, culturally and socially. The Vegas cross-section of humanity is fascinating—perhaps more so than the dazzling lights or the singing slot machines—and the variety of people is exhilarating. You never know what your next encounter with a stranger might be.

As our socialization and culture steers us into making sense of the world, we form opinions about interactions, work, leisure and life in general. And because food is a large part of defining our cultures, it seems our array of foods is really just an excuse to have differences of opinion. These constructed differences add excitement and surprise to the human condition. Simply put, if you don't try it, you will never know how good it can be.

Perhaps all of this is a little heavy pontificating for Las Vegas, but that is what I love about traveling (and cooking): the possibility of experiencing the unknown.

Before we left for the desert, I tried to come up with a recipe for my bride-to-be that was pre-wedding-week friendly. I wanted to surprise her with an unusual combination—one that was satisfying and within her crash-diet rules, but that still had the flair of Las Vegas. I also wanted to demonstrate that after two years together, I still have tricks up my sleeve that will keep things interesting.

As I perused the produce department at our local grocery, I began formulating a recipe for a fresher Caesar salad—one without the heaviness of anchovy paste or the caloric content of all that cheese and dressing. I decided a fresh-fruit take on the Caesar would be fun and vibrant. I picked up mandarin oranges, fresh raspberries, whole unsalted almonds and two chicken breasts. Another quick stop at the Belhaven market provided me with an excellent combination of butter leaf lettuce and heirloom romaine lettuce. (I usually don't go to the trouble of finding organic produce, but there are some wonderful folks in Jackson who can guide you in the right direction. To my surprise, the organic products turned out to be a delicious and integral part of the recipe, so if you're planning to try this recipe, make sure you allot yourself enough time to go organic. It's well worth the extra effort.)

After buying my ingredients, I returned home to experiment, combining these common foods in a new way—at least in a new way for us. The result was colorful. The purple salad dressing just screamed flair, and there were endless ways to arrange the fruit to make an aesthetically pleasing creation. For variety, try adding some salad vinegar or sautéed grapes. Remember to step outside of your cooking realm. I promise you can find and make anything that you set your mind to.

Cooking can be a mini vacation (as long as you have someone to do the dishes). It allows you to interact with strange ideas and new perspectives, even if they're not strangers in Elvis costumes. It may not be as blinding as the Las Vegas Strip, but it is exciting to see purple salad dressing for the first time. On your cooking "travels," be spontaneous and embrace oddities and unknowns. And of course, take risks. You can make memories in the kitchen, too.

SPRING CHICKEN CAESAR
1/2 cup raspberries
1/2 cup Mandarin oranges, sectioned
(canned is fi ne)
2 tablespoons grape seed oil
Fresh soft lettuce
Grated Asiago cheese (for garnish)
Unsalted almonds (for garnish)
Grapes (for garnish)

In a blender, mix raspberries, oranges and oil for the dressing, and refrigerate. Wash the lettuce with
cold water and tear (do not cut) into bite sized pieces. Set aside.

2 boneless chicken breasts
Lemon-pepper seasoning
Juice of a lemon

Cover the chicken with seasoning and cook in a lightly greased pan. Once cooked, slice the chicken and pour the lemon juice on the slices while they're still hot. You can serve the chicken warm or chilled. Toss the lettuce and dressing, and place onto two plates. Add the cooked chicken, and sprinkle with cheese. Top with the raspberries and orange sections. Toss on some unsalted almonds for a great texture contrast.