Slow day at the Gulch. I’ll probably go out and dig at the sewer pipe for a while after lunch but you don’t need more info about that.
Private to that guy who left me a bunch of food in September…
Two bottles of this stuff! The use-by date is sometime in 2010, but I seem to recall divers have pulled amphora of the shit out of ancient greek wrecks and it was still good. (I haven’t actually tried to fact-check that.) Either way, this stuff is still fine. Way better for roasting than the gallon jugs of dollar store vegetable oil I normally use for everything. Some of this in a roasting pan makes a big difference, as I’m sure everybody but me knows perfectly well.
When I became single for the second time and craved “home cooked” but didn’t know how to do that, one of the most important lessons I learned was “just put the bird in the oven.” What had often been presented to me as some sort of inbuilt instinctive skill exclusive to females was really just a matter of patience. Nothing is simpler than roasting chicken.
I started putting up cheap cuts of chicken in Ian’s freezer back in October or November, in anticipation of the awful money drought that would just naturally coincide with a record-breaking cold winter that would begin to taper off sometime in June 2018. Instead it’s the first week in February and the forecast promises springlike weather in all our forthcoming days. Cool, if true, and so we may as well go ahead and eat.