I had a hankering for a big chicken or similar for Christmas this year.
"What do you want a big chicken for?" asked The Old Girl. "There will only be the two of us".
"I know" I said "but I've got this idea in my head. You know how I get".
"Tell me about it" she muttered.
*****************
I thought about the options:
- Turkey (too big and too dry)
- Goose (where would you buy them?)
- Duck (too strongly flavoured
and settled on capon. Capon?
capon
/ˈkeɪp(ə)n/
noun
- a castrated domestic cock fattened for eating.
Over the last couple of weeks I visited a half dozen supermarkets and butcher shops and found one supersize chicken which I cleared space for in the freezer and froze.
This morning I asked The Old Girl when I should take the chicken out of the freezer in readiness for cooking on Christmas morning. She said "tomorrow morning - don't forget" which kind of rang warning bells for me. I might take it out tonight and put in the fridge just to be on the safe side.
Things only got worse from here.
"Will it fit in the crockpot?" she interrogated asked.
"We're roasting it" I answered.
"I like to half cook chickens in the crockpot first" she said.
"Oh" I said.
"Oh?" she quizzed.
"It'll be too big to go in the crockpot" I answered. "It's a big chicken.
"Oh" she said.
.............
"Did you buy a roasting bag?" she asked.
"A roasting bag" I answered .
"A big roasting bag" she stressed.
"Umm ... no" I answered starting to think that this whole exercise is falling into the too hard to be bothered category.
"I'll roast it in the oven covered in tin foil" I came up with.
She just looked at me.
"Eventually she said "You're on your own with that Matey!"
"Fuck"
It's not too late to visit a supermarket and get a big foil roasting thingy. Bloody women! They always ask too many questions.
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