I've had a chicken in my freezer for weeks, if not months. For some reason I thought it was a turkey. I told Ian we'd be rollin' in the turkey if it was up to me. Only, it was chicken. I removed it from the freezer on Friday, stuck it in the fridge to thaw over the next few days. I wasn't sure which day would work best for a home cooked meal given Ian's erratic work schedule. He drives a train, you know, and works all hours; makes it impossible for either of us to eat with any notion of health in mind. By Sunday the chicken was still frozen. Ian wrangled the neck and other parts out of the cavity, not because I couldn't do it (sssshhhh, don't let him know), but because the half-frozen bird was too cold for me to handle; delicate flower that I am (batting of eyelashes). He used the hot water to aid the prying out of the innards, and then I seasoned (salt, pepper, cayenne pepper, thyme, celery seed and a liberal drizzling of olive oil) frozen bird and placed it in baking dish. I figured fifty minutes ought to do it.
I made a mini-green bean casserole sans fried onion rings, but the crumbled crackers worked just as well, and mashed potatoes (with red skins) and we had those Hawaiian rolls to accompany the meal. While the chicken baked I ran to Food City to pick up groceries. In the meantime Ian turned the heat off when I asked him to. I served the food and told Ian to come on. Then I warned him of the red bloody juices emanating from the bird's bottom. He cut into the bird and determined that it had not cooked thoroughly. Back into the oven it went, where it cooked for another thirty to forty minutes. We had a vegetarian meal, as Ian had to drive to Kingsport to report for duty on a yard job. Or was it a pusher? All those railroading terms... they spin 'round in my head. Chicken is wrapped in aluminum foil and resting in the fridge. I'll probably heat it up for tomorrow night's dinner.
Ian itched to get into the pan of rice krispy treats I made for Charles. I catsit his Bella while he was in Raleigh for the holidays. Bella kindly gave me a gift certificate to B & N and I kindly returned the favor by taking turkey bits to her in the ensuing days. I told Ian I would bake something for Charles. I didn't think he could handle an entire Pecan Pie by himself, or a Pound Cake, so I decided that rice krispy treats would do. Ian helped with the decision. He said, Only a communist wouldn't like rice krispy treats. I was sure to pass along that directive to Charles via the note that accompanied my offering.