Winner, Winner Chicken Dinner

I decided to make Crispy Orange Chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans. This was the first time that I have ever cooked (or touched) a whole chicken. When I cook I tend to only read the first few sentences in the directions and then I just read the rest as I go along. This has gotten me into trouble before. I remember showing up for the first day of Eighth Grade Science and the teacher handing out a work sheet. His only instructions were, "Do it." There were about 100 instructions on the list and the very first was "Read all of the instructions before beginning." Well, as an over-achiever and efficiency expert, I thought, "Why should I waste my time reading all of the instructions first. I should just do the tasks in order." After all, there were 100 and I didn't want to be late to my next class. So I read the first 5 or 10 instructions and then started doing them.

1.) Read all of the instructions. (Like I said, what's the point?)

2.) Write your name 50 times.

3.) Write down as many elements as you can think of.

4.) Clap your hands three times.

5.) Moo like a cow.

6.) Stand on your chair and sing the ABCs.

7.) Do the Hokie Pokie.

I got through #4 when I started to ask questions and then justify my way to an answer. Is this really science related? (Well, this is the first day of class. Maybe he's trying to weed out the less intelligent kids. Or even better, maybe the person who finishes first gets a prize!) Am I supposed to know all of the elements? (Uh oh, I guess I've got a lot of studying to do.) Wait, why am I the only one doing anything? I look over and my friend is just sitting there reading her paper. "What an idiot." I thought, "I'm totally gonna beat her to the end." I got through #5 before I really started questioning myself. My friend had stopped reading and was just sitting there doing nothing. I looked over at her and she said, "Just do what it says." So I continued onward, thinking that I was obviously the best in the class since I was so much farther ahead than everyone else. It wasn't until I finished singing the ABCs while standing on my chair that I caught sight of #100 on the the list. "After you have read through all of the instructions, do not go back to the top and complete the activities. Sit quietly in your chair." I was so embarrassed. My hand ached from writing my name 50 times, my brain hurt from trying to remember all of the elements, and my ego was bruised from singing the ABCs and doing the Hokie Pokie in front of the whole darn class.

I should have learned my lesson about reading all of the instructions from my Science class, but I didn't. The marinade was simple enough (oranges, garlic, ginger, soy sauce, etc). But then I read paragraph #2. It said (and I am not paraphrasing), "Starting around the main body cavity of the chicken, slip your hand under the skin. Pat the marinade under the skin and then all over the bird on top of the skin." I have several issues with these few lines. 1.) Cavities are for teeth, not for chickens. 2.) Slip my hand under the what?! Yeah, that's not happening. 3.) When I hear the word "bird" I think of baby chicks and then I think of my own little "chicks" and it becomes difficult to roast the "bird."

Unfortunately, I already had the marinade ready and the chicken out. (Let me add this: The only reason I even bought a whole chicken was because they were buy one get one free. Yes, I have another whole chicken in my freezer. It will probably be there for a while.) I asked Alan if he wanted to do "the honors." (Isn't that a funny phrase? Whenever I don't want to do something, I use that phrase to appeal to Alan's inner knight and hope that he will feel obligated to rescue me, like a fair damsel who is trapped in the castle (kitchen) who needs to be rescued from the dragon (chicken). I use this phrase for poopy diapers too.) Alan laughed and said, "No thanks. The boys need me." I glared at him and said, "Fine." I took the chicken out of the bag and went searching for the "main body cavity." It was then that I realized why it is called a cavity. It holds the most disgusting and foul things known to men (other than diapers). I looked into the cavity and almost threw up when I saw a beating heart (okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little) and other organs. I closed my eyes and reached my hand in to extract the giblets. (If I did not speak English and heard the word "giblets" I would probably think that it meant a delicious sugary treat. Or it might be a name. As a matter of fact, I used to call Dominic "Giblets" when he was a baby because of his double chin. I need to apologize to him for that.) Somehow I got up the courage to pat the marinade under the skin and on top of the chicken and eventually I got it into the oven.

While the chicken was baking, I was day dreaming of some friends dropping by and me pulling out a beautiful chicken and inviting them to stay for dinner. In the dream, the friends were so impressed with my chicken that they decided to get me on my own cooking show. I made millions, our troubles were miles away, and the rest is history. My dream was interrupted by the timer buzzing. I checked on the chicken and it was ... (drum roll please) ... black, burned, charred. Alan assured me that we could just take off the burnt skin and it would still taste good. So, we sat down and ate. The green beans tasted fresh, the mashed potatoes were creamy and fluffy, and the chicken was ... (You're hoping I'll say divine, but I'm an honest person)... undercooked. I am not sure exactly how it happened but my chicken was both burned an undercooked. Talk about killing two birds with one stone - well, more like killing one bird two ways. You would not be a winner if you got this chicken dinner.