The Chicken Dance; Not Just For Weddings
Hugh has been cooking dinner a lot, lately. I credit that to the fact that he and his grill are still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship and, until the bloom is off that particular rose; I intend to milk it for all it’s worth.
So, a couple of nights ago, Hugh decided to break in the grill's rotisserie attachment and we agreed that Cornish game hens would be the perfect thing with which to do so. I was unprepared, however, for how vulnerable the poor little things would look as they were being impaled upon the rotisserie rod.
Hugh has been cooking dinner a lot, lately. I credit that to the fact that he and his grill are still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship and, until the bloom is off that particular rose; I intend to milk it for all it’s worth.
In fact, it was all I could do to eat one of the poor bastards after Hugh had basted it with his special marinade and roasted it to a fine, juicy finish.
I powered through though; I’m a trooper that way.
(It was delicious)
Tonight, we are meeting Younger Sister and her family in a neighboring town for dinner at the Olive Garden. They are on their way through to Denver where they will have the final walk-through on their new house before the closing on Monday. I’m so excited for them and can’t wait to see them.
Also, another night that I don’t have to cook and I won’t have to see my food dance across the kitchen before I eat it.
Win-win!
My husband hasn't ventured into the rotissiere on the grill he bought me for Mother's Day.
ReplyDeleteThat chicken and corn looks so good.
I like the chicken dance Hugh did for you. Now that is a supportive spouse! ;)
ReplyDelete