A cluck cluck here, a cluck cluck there

I am not entirely sure why I had subconsciously convinced myself that roasting a chicken was a lot of work. I had 2 chickens frozen in my freezer for a while. I got them for an incredibly good price one day at the grocery store. Well, I figured that I would just save them for a day when I was feeling overly ambitious. Let me preface the next statements by the fact that “overly ambitious” is not how I am feeling the past few weeks. Run down and exhausted are more like it.

For Christmas we were going to have to have something for dinner. My parents were not here as they were in Wisconsin with my younger siblings. My older sister and her children ended up not going to be returning for Christmas dinner so that they could attend to the needs of the children’s other grandmother who had recently fallen and hit her head. It was too late to get a turkey from the store and thaw it out enough to cook. It was way too late to pull the turkey out of my freezer to thaw out to cook. My sister was smoking hams for the holidays as usual, but I could not consume those so when she was purchasing the hams I had her grab a non-frozen chicken.

Well, I roasted that chicken for Christmas dinner. It turned out very moist. It was delicious. Really, it was not that much work. It was no fun pulling all the stuff out of the middle of it and I certainly do not take pleasure in touching raw chicken, especially a whole raw chicken, but it was not as bad as I had made it out to be in my mind. I am not sure where this picture came from as this was not the first chicken I had ever roasted in my lifetime.

I roasted a chicken that had long since been taking up a frosty residence in my freezer for months on end yesterday evening for dinner. Again, it was successfully roasted. Moist and delicious. It was worthy enough to gain me a child rendition of the “Quartermaster’s Store” started by very own non-singing 13 year old. Evidently he did in fact get over the not wanting to sing while he was at NYLT (Boy Scouts National Youth Leadership Training).

So I’ll have to remember that defrosted chickens are not the enemy that my mind made them out to be. They really can be wrestled into the pan, covered, and then shoved into the oven to roast to deliciousness. Maybe there will be more roasted chickens in our future. Maybe next time I will even take a picture of how lovely they look.

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