A while back, we were walking down the yellow brick road...oh wait, that wasn't me. A while back, I mentioned I was going to be spending more time in the kitchen this year. With a snow storm bearing down two Sunday's ago I thought it a good time to attempt my first oven roasted chicken. Unfortunately, I had just read the Skinny Bitch the day prior and unbeknownst to me, those bitches went all vegan yet I still felt compelled to read all the gory details so I was a bit skittish when it came time to remove the chickens neck. I surely would have thought twice about this endeavor had I known something so horrific was going to be necessary in order make a nice dinner. My free range chicken and I looked at each other before I made my sorrys, closed my eyes and yanked hard. The bony, slimy neck went slip-sliding out of my grasp and bounced and slopped across the tile.
"GROOOOOSS," I wailed!
"What?" called Nat from upstairs.
"Nothing," I sing songed.
I composed myself, desalmanella'd the floor and assembled everything in the baking dish including fresh rosemary springs from Miss Rose on my counter and set the timer. About an hour and 15 minutes later I was dismayed when my meat thermometer was reading too low and Nat insisted it had to reach the proper temperature. 25 minutes later we were in business. Until I went to cut in. Where was the chicken? Why was I hitting bone? Surveying the chicken from several angles, it was determined the chicken had been baked upside down. Sore about the lack of pretty crispy skin to serve in an aesthetically pleasing way, I did the best I could on presentation and delivered Nat my masterpiece. (ish) Luckily, it was uphill from there. In a delicious turn of events, it seems this is an excellent way to bake chicken as it leaves it extra moist. So what started out as a debacle ended in my 'secret technique'.
There's trouble in Jon and Kate plus 8 land. I'm wondering if Joel McCale is correct in that next year we'll be watching "Jon minus 9."