I’m not a good cook. I’m not a terrible cook either, I’m an apathetic cook. Which is why there are certain things I make that are phenomenally good. For example – pancakes. Granted, I have made them almost every day since the accident. But they are the simplest things to make – you literally just add water. I don’t bother to measure, I just dump some powder into a cereal bowl, run enough water in to mix it up and then fry them in butter.
Sam thinks I’m magic.,Every Friday, I make Shabbat dinner. We’ve done it for years, but it’s taken on a special meaning for us since the accident. It’s the day that everyone looks forward to – the crowded table, the candles, the laughing, the fighting for your turn in the conversation… it’s what we do. And I really always kind of make the same thing. Chicken. For the past couple of months, I’ve been making it two ways, I take a big package of chicken breast, and half of it gets shaken and baked, and the other half, I dump into a baking pan with a bottle of bbq sauce.
Jessie asked earlier this week for roasted chicken. Like, a whole chicken.
Since I’m an apathetic cook – I didn’t give it much thought until this afternoon when I was at the store. My only real experience with these things is the Thanksgiving turkey – and that’s a 20lb disaster that takes most of the day to cook. I found a guy who was wearing a white coat (presumably a butcher of some sort), and asked him if I was insane to think about roasting a chicken for Friday night dinner at four o’clock. He assured me that I was not, and handed me two chickens, one four pounds, one five, and sent me on my way. Two hours, he claimed.
I came home and hit pre-heat, and turned to my helpful friends at google. The wasn’t a clear consensus – I read it could take four or five hours, or maybe just an hour and a half. Martha Stewart claimed that an hour and a half would be good – and I think the longer time frame was when you were adding the pounds together, i.e. a nine pound chicken instead of a four and a five pound chicken.
So I lugged out the roasting pan, and cut off the plastic. I fished out the yucky stuff (with tongs, because I’m classy), and then I rinsed them out. Martha suggested that I rub butter all over them, and season them under the skin, but all of that seemed…. complicated and I was mildly concerned that the butter would burn, so I just sprinkled a bunch of adobe seasoning on the top and shoved them in.
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