A fowl crime, indeed.
The carcass is on the lower left, miscellaneous bits are in the roasting pan on the right and the deboned meat is in the bowl. I wear the blue gloves to keep my hands from being bathed in chicken grease.
As soon as I took the bird out of the oven to cool, George took up station in the kitchen to be first in line to get some freshly cooked chicken. The chicken will supply lunchmeat for sandwiches and a couple of suppers. The leftover goop in the roasting pan, once it cools and begins to solidify, will be dumpster food. Yes, I know I could make chicken soup. That ambitious, I am not.
The storm that just blew through here dumped less than 4" of dry, powdery snow around these parts. The people along the coastline in southeastern New England got pasted pretty hard.
Is This All Just A Game To You, Son?
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2 comments:
Harvest Gold Hotpoint stove, classic.
Roasted chicken is great food, drippings, not so much.
Roast chicken, cats are no fools!
Me I make soup as I've already made the effort to roast the fowl and soup is just boiling water.
We got over 11" of powder up here. They got less north and west.
Eck!
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