Just when I have begun to have confidence in myself as a cook, things go wrong. Years ago Theresa provided me with a fail-proof recipe that tastes wonderful. It’s basically a 4-5 pound roaster chicken stuffed with 8-10 garlic cloves and a wedged lemon and baked for a few hours. With an hour left of cooking time, I add cut up potatoes and carrots and while the chicken is cooling enough to cut, I make gravy out of the drippings. It’s one of those meals that’s perfect for impressing friends and relatives… but not so Wednesday night. We wanted to eat by 5 pm so we could spend the rest of the evening attending Las Noches de las Luminarias at the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix.
In preparation, I preheated the oven and stuffed the chicken by 2:15 and then went off to read a book. At 3:30 I put the vegetables in a different roasting pan and went back to my reading. At about 4:45 Bev alerted me that all was not well… that the chicken, in fact, was quite raw. It was then we all (by now it was quite the family affair) figured out it should have been cooked at 325 degrees rather than the 250 that I had set the oven. We turned up the heat, cooked the potatoes and carrots and the microwave, and waited to eat until 6. So much for an easy-to-prepare, delicious dinner.
Throughout dinner Bev exclaimed over and over again how wonderful the meal was, Sophie said her carrots tasted wrinkly, and I wanted to sink in my seat. Next time I think I’ll follow the recipe.
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