I am a domestic goddess

In an effort to be more domestic, I am trying to cook more. At my bridal shower, I got about eight million tools for the kitchen. About 99% of them are still in their boxes or have tags on them. Waffle maker? Yep need that. KitchenAid Mixer? A must have item that everybody wants. Please don't ask me what you do with it. I don't have a clue. It scares me. In fact, I know what to do with very few of these brand spankin' new items. But I am trying to be a good wife and I am sick of spending a million dollars a month going out to eat and ordering takeout. This is not helping my wallet or my spreading thighs.

Last week, I decided since the Oven Stuffer Roasters were on sale at the ShopRite, that I would cook a whole chicken on Thursday. I have never done this before. Funnily enough, I used my Mom and Dad's rotisserie, which is the one kitchen gadget I did not get.


Doesn't it look glorious?
I gotta tell you that the Rotisserie is pretty freakin' cool. You literally put the sticks through the chicken, stick it in the Rotisserie and walk away. Or sit there and stare at it in wild-eyed wonder, like I did. It didn't go off without a hitch though. The inside of a chicken is hollow. You're supposed to put the spear thingies through the middle of the meat and distribute the weight evenly. Then you have to tie the legs and the wings down. This was my first time tying anything around my food and it was interesting. Oh and dancing chicken chased Marty around the kitchen for a while. That was fun. But how was I to put the spears through the middle of the bird when the middle is hollow and open on both ends? I finally improvised and went in high on one end and low on the other end. Everything started out fine and then, something broke and the chicken kept flapping it's wings at every 360 degree turn in the rotisserie. Thump, pause, pause, thump, pause, pause, thump... This caused my husband to throw his hands up in disgust and declare that we ruined dinner and we are hopeless messes. Yeah. He doesn't like when things don't go perfectly. So I then had to don these giant rubber gloves, pause the rotation and hold the chicken while Marty tied more string around it and we both had to make every attempt not to get any third degree burns. After a little cursing, SUCCESS. You can see the silly amount of string we have on the chicken though... Hey, whatever works, right?



Just an hour and a half later we had delicious chicken, some Stove Top, instant mashed potatoes (I thought the chicken was too hard to attempt homemade stuff. baby steps.) and asparagus. There was no gravy due to what we now call in my house "the gravy incident". I tried. I really did, but it ended up just tasting like flour. Advice to all people with loved ones who recently quit smoking: when the gravy doesn't work, don't mention the word gravy for days. I was frantically trying to fix the floury mess that was the gravy. More water. Stir. More chicken seasoning. Stir. Repeat. Repeat. Get a bigger pot since there is now a gallon of gravy. More water. Stir. More salt and pepper. Stir. More chicken flavoring. Stir. REPEAT REPEAT REPEAT. Why? Why wont' you work, f-ing gravy?!?! My mom walks up and says "Oh. what happened to the gravy?" Go away, you old hag. My dad says "Hmmm. The gravy doesn't look right. Maybe Mommy can help?" I don't see you cooking anything, ya jerk. Then Marty says something to the effect that the gravy looks like cream of broccoli soup. I practically broke down at this point. I gave Marty the evil eye and cursed him out (quietly of course since my elders were in the room). He then tried to apologize and got some "Don't touch me. Don't look at me. Don't say a word. I hate you." And then the whole group got "If you want gravy, there is a jar in the pantry. Heat it up yourselves." Smarties that they are, they did not mention the gravy again. I almost stomped out of the kitchen and refused to eat, but came to my sense and remained semi-civil for the rest of the meal. Overall it was a wild success and I am feeling very proud and wifely.



And to top myself, I made chicken noodle soup with the bone and everything on Friday. I am quite the multitasker and clearly, I am a domestic goddess.