Yesterday we pulled a whole chicken out of the freezer for supper last night, but we were going to Target, so we put it in the oven to keep it away from Mojo. (After the bread incident, we were taking no chances.)
So the chicken did not defrost completely. We used the microwave to thaw it some more, then I put butter and Greek Garlic seasoning on it, and threw it in the oven. Pretty soon the house was filling with the scent of garlicky goodness.
The first problem came when the chicken seemed to be done, but then we noticed the juices running from the center were still rather bloody...After some exploration, we pulled the heart and gizzard and stuff from inside it. Apparently it was frozen to the side of the cavity and we missed it when we were prepping the chicken.
So the chicken was not done. We tossed it back in the oven, and threw some Pillsbury rolls in too. We got a salad, peas, and broccoli ready to go, plus couscous.
Sounds like it's turning out to be a decent meal, right? Ha.
The rolls were supposed to be in at 400, but the chicken was at 325. The skin of the chicken looked crispy delicious, but cutting into it, I hit undercooked portions. And while trying to disassemble the chicken, I realized all the good knives are in Alaska in Mark's apartment.
I am buying myself a good new knife this week. Before I make Thanksgiving dinner for eight.
Because cutting poultry with an dullish knife is no fun at all.
So I tossed the chicken carcass onto the platter and put the whole thing in the microwave for ten minutes. That seemed to do the trick -- we were no longer serving raw though garlicky good chicken. I still was not having any fun cutting up the chicken. I am getting a new knife tomorrow.
In the meantime, Mom got the rolls out of the oven. They stuck to the bottom of the pan. They never ever ever stick for me. Stupid rolls. Stupid pan.
Finally we got everything and everyone to the table. Whew. Things are looking up, right? Again with the HA.
Zach missed the plate when he was dishing himself up some couscous. Thor dumped way too much ranch dressing on his broccoli. Then he knocked the spoon from the couscous on the floor.
We had banana splits for dessert. The first banana Mom cut open looked a little bloody. Really weird -- like there was blood in it. We didn't eat that banana.
I was cutting another banana for my split, and cut my thumb, just a little bit, but it hurt. I think I got banana in the cut. I was concerned I would soon start turning yellow and having a thick peel-like skin.
Mom was putting caramel on her split, and because it was a brand new just-opened bottle, it was a lot runnier than she was expecting, and she ended up with more than she wanted. Drowned ice cream in caramel.
By the time the meal was over, neither of us had any desire at all to deal with the chicken carcass, so we threw it in a stock pot and put in the in garage refrigerator. But that means we have to deal with it today.