baked chicken, asparagus, watermelon




I had three packages of chicken from different places in the freezer. Each package is very different. Boneless breasts, boneless thighs, bone-in thighs. Different sizes and thicknesses. Different cooking propensities. 

Marinated forty-eight hours just like the lady at Royal Rooster said. 

One day in tarragon-brine and one day in buttermilk. 

And then no more salt after that. 

I baked it instead of deep-frying it and mine is a little bit worse for that, but boy oh boy, wheee-doggie, it sure is tender and moist. 

Moist. People say they hate that word, but they don't say why. 

I don't understand it. Maybe they have natural pornographic minds and they want us to respect their one-track dead end. 

Moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist squish moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist drip moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist squeak moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist damp moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist moist. 

That there's what you call immersion therapy. 

Wow, that watermelon is really good.

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