Airline chow

I don't know if I am repeating myself but I woke up this morning thinking of Trader Vic's Malay peanut chicken. Never heard of it too bad. I have had many really good dishes in my long existence. A lot of Italian, some Japanese and German and a few French meals but TV's Malay Peanut Chicken is in my top five. 

Like the old lady on Golden Girls used to say, picture this. In 1975 I'm flying at 30,000 feet in a United 747 to Japan. I flew a lot back in the seventies but rarely flew on United Airlines. I favored Continental and TWA back then but a United flight was my only option. I could smell the aromas wafting from the galley. The flight attendant, actually they were called stewardesses way back in the stone age, and asked me if I would like the beef tips on noodles, yum yum or the whatever the hell the standard airline fare was back then or the Malay Peanut Chicken. 

Malay Peanut Chicken did she say? I had no idea what Malay Peanut Chicken was but I did know that United Airlines probably wouldn't try to poison paying customers, so I opted for the Malay Chicken. I devoured the peanut chicken like a man who hadn't had anything to eat in the last month. I really liked it. Actually I loved it. 

After the meal service, I strolled aft to the galley put on my best smile and turned my charm control dial up to 10 and asked sweetly "Who in your organization do I write to get the recipe for that wonderful chicken?" The attendant smiled sweetly back at me and extended her arm over my shoulder and said "You really liked it?" Before I could assess just what in the hell had happened she handed my this orange  8 1/2 X 11 card with the recipe printed on it and said "Just little old me." It was the culinary coup of my life. When I got back to my boat, I tried the recipe as it was printed out. The next time I tried making it again which was the next day, I fine tuned it a skosh. Now whenever I want to impress someone with my culinary prowess, I make my piece de resistance. I call it the peanut butter chicken. When I ask Ed my first born son, what do you want me to make for dinner. He shoots back, without any hesitation, the peanut butter chicken. 

As Ed is so fond of saying, "The apple never falls too far from the tree."