106669273007712080

lately, i’ve been dumb as a box of rocks. i think it might have something to do with my overconsumption of carbs of late — being surrounded by atkins fanatics/whiners will do that to you, it seems — but maybe my brain has just atrophied considerably since graduation. probably both.

saturday, i went over to justin’s to cook something for the boys, and after mucking about with austin’s kickass new apple webcam, i resolved to roast a chicken and some potatoes. all was going well: i thoroughly massaged in nearly a full stick of butter mashed up with thyme and rosemary, minced garlic, and some lemon zest into and under the chicken’s dermal layer. i crammed the chicken’s cavity with herb branches and lemon halves. I remembered to heat up the pan first. austin successfully constructed an aluminum foil pedestal for said bird, so that the skin could crisp on the bottom as well. i stuck the bird in the pan, stuck the pan back in the oven. after ten minutes, i go to baste the bird with some stock, enlisting justin to help open the oven and pull out the rack a bit. i slosh some stock on the bird, it sputters a little in the 400 degree pan, and then, as justin jumps back from the sputtering, the pan explodes everywhere. mostly the oven. but still, everywhere. genius that i am, i decide it doesn’t matter so much that i heat up the stock. i’m lazy; i’ll just pour it on straight from the carton (no, i didn’t make stock from scratch this time), and it’ll heat up anyway in the oven. i forgot that the pan is glass. the molecules on the superheated exterior are straining outwards and upwards. the molecules in the interior, cooled by the stock, desperately want to contract. there is a battle, and the chicken loses. or, more precisely, i lose. we decide chicken a la shards of glass might not prove so tasty, and dump the bird. it’s too bad we didn’t take pictures. before picking out the glass with chopsticks and vacuuming the oven with the dirt devil, the inside looked like the aftermath of a looting and pillaging rampage. and that’s how i came to have a slice of pizza, roasted potatoes, and pasta on saturday night.

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