Roast Chicken with Croutons

It's supposed to snow next week, however everyone's been saying "snow!" for two weeks now and it hasn't happened. I like the rain and the coldness now, knowing it'll be gone in a month. But it does make me want to huddle in a blanket and not talk to anyone. In a happy satisfied way.

I feel the biggest downfall to my job is that it forces me to interact with lots of people on a pretty shallow level every day, which means my brain isn't left alone enough. All that energy is wasted on throwing myself back and forth between routine conversations. If I hermit myself for a few days, I feel so much more flexible and inspired, it's as if my life takes on an entirely new meaning. So imagine if I could just get away from the people distraction for months at a time. The finally finished stories, the badly drawn cartoons, the home movies, the multitude of craft projects! The millions of photos of my backyard! No, but seriously, it would be good for me. I guess this is what motivates hermits in the first place - the potential. I'm not really the Tibet type though. More of the "holed up in my apartment with a case of wine and lots of Triscuits" type.

Other than being sucked dry of social mannerisms on a daily basis, my life has been pretty ho hum this week. I learned my cat will only play with metal. Metal jingle bells, coins, metal ball bathroom chains. I feel guilty because I've spent 8 years assuming she didn't play at all, since she disdained every feathered and catnipped stuffed toy I brought home. Silly metal cat. No wonder she's so much heavier than she looks, she's probably a robot.

I didn't get to go to the Mountain Goats, because it was sold out at Oberlin the day the tickets for students went on sale. We looked at all the dates in the area, and they were all at colleges in spaces of like 300, only for students. NOT COOL. I'm being discriminated against for being old, and also not knowing lots of Oberlin students in my social circles. But hello, I've already got the vegan feminist indie kid quotient of my friends filled.

There are some cool out of the house things coming up next week. But this present whole week has just slipped by like a fish. I should have gone out last night, there was a birthday and a friend's concert. But after driving around lost and undecided for an hour in the gloomy Cleveland grayness, we decided to watch a boring movie (Milk- yes the acting was great, still boring guys, sorry. I need less emotion and more political detail please) and make a boring meal.

Not that this isn't a good roast chicken recipe. It is, and it makes great greasy crispy croutons that should be mashed up like a bread salad with the chicken, or dried and reserved for regular salads. But chicken is still just chicken, right? It's the most bourgeois meal one can make. I guess it's pure mundaneness makes it special, and worthy of mastering. Plus roasting a chicken is so easy, it's the perfect brain dead meal for a brain dead week.

Doesn't looking at that plate of carbs and salt and skin make you feel warm? It's not the prettiest picture, but it has associations.

Roast Chicken with Croutons (Adapted from this NYT recipe)



Ingredients

1 appropriate sized chicken (not rocket science, how many people are eating?)
1 loaf crusty bread (I used a baguette chopped up, but ciabatta or any stale bread will work)
black pepper
salt
fresh rosemary, thyme, and sage
softened butter
olive oil
1 medium white onion

1. Clean and prep the carcass. Yes, I said carcass, cause that's what it is. And if you really want to drive that impression home, try taking pictures of it whole. It can't look anything but dead.

2. Chop up your herbs, according to taste, and mix into the butter.

3. Chop up your bread into 1-2 inch blocks. Line the bottom of a heavy roasting pan with the bread, then drizzle with olive oil and season with salt and pepper.

4. Stuff the cavity of the bird with the onion. Then lay it on top of the bread.

5. Rub the bird down with the herb butter, and season with salt and pepper.

6. I cooked it for an hour covered at 350, then another 45 minutes uncovered at 360. I used a lower heat because I didn't want to burn the bread. The NYT recipe calls for 1 hour and 15 minutes at 425. But I was also working with a 7 pound bird, and they had a 4-5 pound one, so you know, cook it until the juices run clear and you don't think it will kill you. It's always a good idea to cook something until it can't kill you anymore.

The bread will be crispy and saturated with chicken juice and butter and seasoning. I couldn't eat more than one piece of it alone because it's so rich, but with the chicken it was great, and I wasn't kidding about saving the stuff for salad croutons.

This is a recession, people! Don't waste anything! It's not about calories, it's about economy! Whatever.