The early bird gets eaten

This chicken is safely tucked away from the three digit heat.

This chicken is safely tucked away from the three digit heat.

Safeway had whole chickens for 99 cents a pound last week, so I grabbed one.  I should have got more but a thought occurred to me – would my husband really want to stand out in this 3-digit heat over the barbie? I took Mr. Chicken home and put him in the freezer to think about it. 

Friday morning as I lay in bed scraping my eyes open,  I asked my husband what he thought. Oh yeah, he said, it’s been pretty nasty by 4 pm, didn’t sound too appealing. But the light bulb went on over his head – take it out and thaw it and then cut it up and put it in a bag of marinade overnight – first thing tomorrow morning we’ll throw that baby on the grill. 

That sounded pretty genius, but remained to be seen. I never know what’s going to happen in the morning around here, making plans just sounded like asking for it. Especially something weird like, cook dinner by 9am. But, I took that bird out of the freezer and set him on the counter. By noon he was feeling pretty spry, I washed him up, dug out all the entrails for the dogs, and cut him in two neat halves. I put him in the fridge with a jar of cheap soy sauce marinade from Safeway. We could make our own but my husband likes to experiment around with new sauces from the store. 

And then I wrote myself a note and put it right under my coffee cup – one word – CHICKEN!  I’m not all together at 5:30 am, I always leave myself a note like that guy in the Phillip K. Dick story.

Yesterday morning, early, I realized it was going to be a baker. Yeccchhh! I woke my husband up by 7am and he went out to walk the dogs, check the garden, and get the grill going. I couldn’t believe it, by 8:00, that bad  boy was over the coals.

Nothing says Good Morning! like the smell of grilling chicken.

Nothing says Good Morning! like the smell of grilling chicken.

 

It was very weird, the cool breeze slithering all around us instead of the baking heat waves. On Saturday morning things are extra quiet too, even the dogs. 

Now we're getting somewhere.

Now we’re getting somewhere.

By 9am, dinner was ready.

No, you can't have any, I'm going to wrap it up in foil and put a towel over it.

No, you can’t have any, I’m going to wrap it up in foil and put a towel over it.

I got my sample – my favorite part of a chicken is the tail – perfect combo of muscle and fat. My husband watches it, cause it will burn if you let it. When it’s roasted to a perfect turn, he cuts it off and calls for me to Come and Get It! My family doesn’t get it, but they know I get it.

This chicken tail was bad to the bone.

This chicken tail was bad to the bone.

So, yesterday afternoon about 5pm, I made a green salad, and we unwrapped that chicken and sat down to dinner. Boy Howdy Folks, it was good. 

 

 

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