I made chicken stock last night while I slept. Yes, leaving the stove on all night had the potential to
- kill me in my sleep by fire or carbon monoxide poisoning;
- scorch my precious Le Creuset dutch oven;
- have every piece of clothing, linens, and hair permeated with the smell of chicken fat (ugh, so gross);
- ruin a good night’s sleep due to paranoia about any or all of the above.
Thankfully, none of the above occurred and I woke up to beautiful, golden broth.
I haven’t made a roast chicken in years – it used to be one of my staples when entertaining friends. Roast chicken with crispy potatoes. Mmmm, rosemary and lemon and garlic and butter! I made it for some friends recently (hence the carcass with which to make stock) and it was not the same. I’ve lost some entertaining mojo from lack of use. Getting everything on the table at the same time while simultaneously carrying on a conversation is quite a feat! This time I accidentally roasted the chicken upside down, so I had to do some rearranging to marry the perfectly cooked breasts with the beautifully crisped (back) skin. It actually turned out not-half-bad, though the potatoes were undercooked. I blame the oven.
The moon! The wolf moon! (thanks, Jenny) The moon-set was so huge and bright this morning. It was worth the 8 am meeting that caused me to witness it.
