So, you’re making chicken fettuccine alfredo, huh? That’s a rich dish, man. Like, super rich. You can’t just throw any old thing next to it on the plate, or you’ll just feel like a lump afterwards. I learned that the hard way, let me tell ya.
My Big Alfredo Side Dish Drama
I remember this one time, years ago, I’d just moved into this tiny apartment. My first place on my own after a really crummy job ended. You know the kind, where they make you feel like you’re walking on eggshells every single day? Yeah, that was it. So, I decided I was gonna host a “proper” dinner. For myself, mostly, but I invited my sister over to witness my newfound adulthood. Chicken fettuccine alfredo was the main event because it felt fancy.
And then came the side dish panic. Oh boy. I spent, no joke, probably three hours scrolling through stuff online. What goes with alfredo? What’s not too heavy? What looks good? It was nuts. My brain went into overdrive. It felt like one of those performance reviews at my old job, where they’d pick apart every tiny thing.
Here’s what I was wrestling with:
- Garlic Bread: Classic, right? But then it’s carbs on carbs. Is that a food crime? Some websites made it sound like it.
- A Simple Green Salad: This seemed like the “sensible” choice. But what kind of dressing? Couldn’t be creamy, that’s for sure. Vinaigrette? Which one? Suddenly, a simple salad wasn’t so simple.
- Roasted Vegetables: Broccoli? Asparagus? Brussels sprouts? All sounded okay, but also like a lot more effort when I was already stressing about the alfredo.
I eventually landed on trying to make some fancy, pan-blistered green beans with toasted almonds. Sounded good, looked impressive in the pictures. I wanted to prove, mostly to myself, that I could do this adulting thing, that I wasn’t a mess like how that old boss, Mr. Henderson, used to imply. He was the kind of guy who’d find fault in a perfect sunny day. “Too bright,” he’d probably grumble.
So, I’m juggling the alfredo, trying to get the sauce just right, and then I turn to these green beans. The recipe said “high heat, quick blister.” Well, my “quick blister” turned into a “full-on smoke alarm serenade.” The beans were black. Not artfully charred, just… black. The almonds? Little charcoal bits. My tiny apartment filled with smoke. My sister arrived to the sound of the smoke alarm blaring and me flapping a tea towel around like a lunatic.
The alfredo itself? It was actually pretty decent. But the fancy side dish was a disaster. We ended up just eating the pasta, laughing about the smoke, and picking at some raw carrots I found in the fridge. My sister, bless her, said, “You know, sometimes just the pasta is enough.”
And that’s kind of how I feel about it now. Why all the fuss? That whole experience reminded me of that awful job. They had so many complicated rules for simple tasks, so many hoops to jump through. They’d have a five-page manual on how to answer the phone. It was all designed to make simple things feel overwhelmingly complex, probably just to justify someone’s position.
So, what side dish goes with chicken fettuccine alfredo? Honestly, these days, I just keep it super simple. Sometimes it’s a basic salad with a squeeze of lemon. Sometimes it’s steamed broccoli, no fancy almonds. Sometimes, if I’m feeling wild, a slice of crusty bread to mop up the sauce, and I don’t care if it’s “carbs on carbs.” And you know what? It’s always fine. Better than fine, actually, because there’s no stress. Just good, rich pasta. The alfredo is the star. Let it shine. Don’t let the side dish turn into a Mr. Henderson.
