Me and my first chicken: when food stops being polite, and starts getting gross

I read recently a list of 11 things you should be able to cook before you turn 30. Some I agree with: homemade tomato sauce, grilled steak. Some I thought should be a requirement for turning 20 instead: scrambled eggs, cookies. (Seriously? Cookies?)

Most of the items on the list I’ve made, but could stand to perfect. The one item I’ve never tried was the roast chicken.

Let me tell you about my Sunday.

I felt like, if I’m going to roast a chicken, I’m going to roast a good chicken. However, I am still a former grad student who is working to pay off her loans, so I basically found the cheapest chicken, and went one step up from there.

imma roast you, chicken

I ended up going with Ree Drummond’s roast chicken. It has four ingredients. What could go wrong? Not a thing! That’s what! Everything’s gonna be A-OK!

First: Butter! Lemon zest!  Rosemary! These are delightful things! Definitely not gross. Definitely not. And now my whole apartment smells like citrus. Mash the butter, the rosemary, and lemon zest together! I’m doing it!  I am definitely great at cooking.
Then comes the chicken part of roasting a chicken. So. disclaimer, you will feel like a monster for what you are about to do. First, you have to figure out what to do with your bag of things.* And then you have to figure out what the Pioneer Woman means when she says to pat your chicken dry. My patting technique is derived from my standard operating procedure for upset friends: stand three feet away and in a panicked whisper say, “you’re ok. You’re ok” while you pat their shoulder.

There is no Instagram filter to help you pretty up a raw chicken. It will always look like an autopsy.

This is the part where you rub your butter/lemon/rosemary concoction all over this beast. There is no picture of this because this was the part where I was beginning to have my doubts. I’m not meant to roast chickens! I make a mean bowl of rice! What am I doing here?!?! But alas, there is a pile of butter-covered raw poultry on my counter. There’s no turning back. Into the oven with you!

An hour an a half later….good not great? Yeah, it looks like some pieces got burnt  extra attention, and it looks like my chicken is passing a lemon, but it’s edible? It no longer looks like what nightmares are made of? Success? Am I adulting?

Yes. The answer is yes.

*Innards. Your chicken comes with a bag of organs. Like a mad scientist.

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One thought on “Me and my first chicken: when food stops being polite, and starts getting gross

  1. I’m not saying that I’ve encouraged my offspring to “explore” the Bag O’ Organs, but I’m not saying I *haven’t*, either.

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