I made chicken on Friday night. Is there anything as nice as the smell of roast chicken filling a house? When the light falls faster, and the cars on the freeway look like a string of holiday lights, and it’s crisp outside, and all you can think of is knitting in front of the TV, cats on your lap, dogs on your feet?
I can’t even really brag about my chicken-cooking abilities, since this is what I do: Roughly chop one lemon into big chunks, chop a head of garlic into big chunks (don’t even worry about peeling the cloves), scissor up a bunch of rosemary, shove all of it into the chicken (thanking that nice free-range kosher chicken and wishing it well in the next life), then stick it in the oven, an hour and a half at 350. Forget about it. Basting, what’s basting? Doesn’t need it.
However. I got cocky. (Get it? Cocky? Chicken? Heh.) While chicken and some frozen veggies are fine for me for dinner, sister Bethany was coming over and I decided to show off. Surely you could cook veggies with a chicken like people do with a roast, right? (Not like I’ve ever done that, but still. How hard could it be?) So I cut up some potatoes, added a bunch of carrots and mushrooms, then threw some chopped shallots on top. Left it all to cook next to Mr. Chicken.
Yeah. Perfect chicken. That part come guaranteed like that. But guess what happens if you cook veggies like that? Yes. You get little potato rocks and hard small carrots that are all wrinkly and pathetic. It was to weep. Only a few of the mushrooms made it, and only those that were sitting in the chicken juice actually had a chance.
So I cooked up some zucchini with shallots, added the mushrooms and pretended that’s what I meant to do. And garlic bread. That always fixes everything, doesn’t it?
Still haven’t seen Lala. She’s back tonight from being a rockstar, but I’ll be at work. We’ll be ships in the Oakland night until Wednesday, and then I leave on Thursday for the holiday. Bah. But she doesn’t like chicken, so it worked out well for Friday night, I suppose.
Also: Saw Good Night, Good Luck. I can certainly see why people liked it. It did take me forty-five minutes to realize that it was in black and white. I loved the aesthetic. And the hair. But dude, I fell asleep like four times, and so did another guy. I never do that. So I suppose that’s a less-than-glowing review.
Okay. Off to work. Happy week, all. Oh! I finished a shawl thingie yesterday – remind me to show you!
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