A Thursday dinner with the three-thing structure I default to when I haven’t planned the week out: a protein, a starch, a green. The cutlet stayed crispy because I waited to plate it until everything else was ready. My husband calls this kind of plate “a school lunch for adults,” which is the highest compliment he gives my weeknight cooking. It’s a compliment, I’m pretty sure. We ate at the kitchen table with the news on low.
A chicken cutlet plate
