This week I roasted a chicken.
Surprisingly, nothing went horribly wrong. In fact, it all went quite smoothly. So there’s not really much to write about. But I do feel it is an accomplishment that us newly married folk would like to remember…so here it is in writing.
I did not cook the roast with the bag of giblets still inside…therefore it did not catch on fire…I almost perfectly timed the bird’s removal from the oven with my side dishes. I did not get the chicken stuck on my head (see Friends episode for how this might have happened)…I did not need to put the chicken back into the oven multiple times after first cutting into it and finding a cold, raw center…It did not come out tasting like rubber, leather, or some other manufactured material…
Instead, it was a delicious feast worthy of a short victory dance.
…and I only dropped the giblets all over the floor once.
So there you have it…I am a roaster.
I took a picture of the chicken before I put it in the oven. Then I realized that no one wants to look at pictures of raw meat. I forgot to take a picture of our dinner before we started scarfing it down. So you will have to take my word for it.