Roast Chicken to Cure the Blues
My darling brother has a new girlfriend, and of course, when you are no longer young, new relationships tend to come with some baggage. The Nice Girlfriend had a tough day yesterday, her baggage was all noisy with her about the fact that she’s moving on in life, and she was a little blue. She’s also renovating her house, and domestic disarray never helps when feeling blue. Plus, the brother has a cold, and was a little low himself. So late in the afternoon they came over and we sat on the new, comfy outdoor furniture, looking at the beautiful-if-still-empty raised beds, and had a restorative cocktail. Meanwhile, I’d roasted a chicken and some potatoes, and steamed some of the gorgeous big artichokes that have flooded our local market. We sat in the backyard for a while, then came in and ate artichokes, and chicken, and potatoes and salad, with a nice bottle of wine left over from the fiesta the other night, and everything was just a little better. When people are feeling a little blue, there’s nothing like a roasted chicken — so easy (poke holes in lemon, stuff in cavity with some garlic, rub outside with olive oil, salt, pepper and paprika or ancho chili powder, roast at 400 for an hour to an hour and a half). A nice dinner in my yellow kitchen and the world feels slightly less wobbly on its axis.
