I cook a lot. And I feel like I am a pretty decent cook, trying to be creative with ingredients, etc... But I have always shied away from "Whole" things. I don't cook whole hams, the largest I get is a quarter ham. I fillet my fish, because I don't like looking at eyeballs in my food. I might buy turkey sausage, but I wouldn't know what to do if I had a giant poultry in my freezer. What would I even cook it in?
But about two weeks ago, I took the plunge and bought a whole four pound roasting chicken. I felt proud. I took it home, stuck it in the freezer, and waited for the courage to pull it out, thaw it, and figure out how in the heck to cook the thing.
And last night was the night to cook it. It had been thawing in the fridge for two days, and the time was right. So I stuffed it with some oranges, rubbed some orange zest under the skin (along with some salt, pepper and pineapple juice), stuck some toothpicks between the legs to keep it from popping open (what newlywed has butcher's twine, let's be serious??). And actually, Joe did the honors of putting it in the oven, because I needed to go walk dogs.
And this is the result. I was pretty proud. So long, chicken. Hello Womanhood.
