lesson i learned: do not trust chicken that comes without qualifiers.
believe me, i want nothing to do with what is sold as "chicken" in this country.
the previous statement is obviously untrue: when i feel lazy i am keen to buy a dubious chicken provided that somebody spit-roasted it for me. when i feel dirty i treat myself to a kebab.
i don't let these slight incongruences distract me from the right way, so in my household chicken is a rare treat because good free-range-organic -not-necessarily-corn-fed-rare-breed chicken --(ehi! a LOT of qualifiers)-- is expensive.
let's say £6 to £8 per kilo --(imperial measures are banned in this blog)-- or £12 to £16 per bird.
money well spent: i won't fill our bodies with unwanted antibiotics and those two kilos will go a loooong way.
the oven is getting hot, the chicken is out, potatoes are cut. everything is well coated with olive oil and two halves of a nice lemon sit snugly in the birds' bum. a few garlic cloves.
in goes the roast tin and i'm off to play with isabella while zoe is having one of her long baths.
after 90 minutes isabella is sleeping in her cot --(bless!)--, zoe is almost out of the tub and the chicken is ready.
a nice green salad, a glass of wine... i am happy.
coming up: the endless chicken parts two, three and four (!!!)
also coming up: the accidental vegan.