Gougères

I recall with affection as if suddenly drenched with a bucket of lucid memory how we gorged upon the gorgeous gougères atop Royal Gorge, she and I, and she said to me way up there, it's a bit scary you know, "Jellybean, these are a lot better straight out of the oven" and I said, "You're right. Looks aren't everything. These are much better hot." On impulse she tossed the whole lot over the edge flying like litter tumbling through the air to the Arkansas River far below even though this is Colorado, and oh, how we laughed as we watched them float off as little battered boats 1250 feet below, now tiny dots. So, they're good for boats too and good for a laugh.

I had to do something with this family pack of chicken breasts. One of them I kept removing chunks from to test and eat as they braised slowly for hours. Raisins and pecans were impulse. They were both right there in jars.

Standard pâte à choux, or Patty shoes as we say, simplest of all the shoes.

They are very good by themselves.
And the shredded chicken with hot chile peppers is very good too.

But they are not good together.