Slow Roasted Whole Chicken

I'm a big believer in whole chickens.  I see some chicken pieces as a big old Jip.  Many times, you can buy a whole chicken for the price of 2 boneless skinless chicken breasts. 

Cooking a whole chicken is not hard.  There are many ways to do it.  Roasting a whole chicken is a very nice way.  If I have the time, this chicken turns into something similar to the rotisserie chicken you can buy in the grocery store deli.

Slow Roasted Chicken. 
4 t. salt
1 t. paprika
1 t. cayenne pepper
1 t. onion powder or dry minced onion.
1/2 t. poultry seasoning
1/2 t. garlic powder
1/8 t. sage
Preheat the oven to 250 degrees.  Yes, that's right.  Have I got your attention?

Combine the ingredients and rub or pat them all over a cleaned dried whole chicken.

Clean the chicken by first removing all giblets and parts from the cavity.  I then wash my sink with plenty of good soap, hot water and scrubbing.  My sink gets this treatment a couple times a day every day.  I often put plain liquid dish soap on a green scratchy pad and go at it.  Rinse with very hot water and you are clean.  Trust me.  Stress out over something else.   
 I put the chicken in the sink and run water over it and through it.  I take the time to pick off anything I don't want to eat.  Let's leave it at that.  It's up to you.  I have this weird idea that it's important to be personal with your food, know where it came from and what's in it.  We eat very little that comes out of a box or package. 

Dry the chicken with paper towels inside and out.  Apply seasonings.  Place seasoned chicken in a roasting dish of your choice.  Put it in the preheated oven for 5 hours.  Yes, that's 5 hours at 250 degrees. 

Wash the sink again the same way once you are finished.

I've done this many times with two chickens when I was entertaining, because it all happens ahead of time.  Today, I came home to fix our lunch and put it in then, setting the timer.  I was home well before the timer went off and had time to work on the blog, a luxury these days.  I've got potatoes in the oven.  We'll have some sort of vegetable.  I'll decide that in a little bit.  Just takes some planning and some organization.  Remember to plan ahead.

Cali and Cleaning out Mom's house

Happy Birthday to the Beautiful and Talented Daughter in Law.  We love you.

Now, a Cali update. She is fitting in well after a few dramas.  Who knew cats were a little high maintenance? 

Not me.  I've never had a cat and Cali is not mine.  She belongs to Step Son and Daughter in Law who are staying with us. 

My Dad didn't like cats.  Should I tell this story?  Well yes, because it fits into the next one.  My Dad didn't like cats because they came into the yard and left little packages in the bark dust.  At one point, our yard was spotless and beautiful.  You'll see a picture of it now below.

So Dad would lie in waiting for the neighbor cat with a pellet gun.  He delivered a little package of his own to the maraudering cats' behinds when he got the chance.  He believed that it trained the cats to stay away, but it never really work. 

Anyway, I grew up thinking cats were the Devil.  I've come to like Cali.  Why she wants to be in our shower, I do not know.  Any cat lovers out there care to explain that to me? She is offered plenty of water.

The Golden Retriever has come to enjoy Cali's presence.  So much so that Cali has moved from the Barbie house to behind the couch.  Yes, this is really behind my couch.  Blogging is a personal and intimate medium.  Don't you think?

So to continue on another note, we've been cleaning out Mom's house with a plan of selling it or renting it. This was a house that my Dad built in 1962.  I was 3 years old when we moved in.  I'm 51 now.  I was raised here.  And left as fast as I could trot at the end of the summer of 1977.  Not wander, Melynda.  As fast as I could trot!   

It's pretty tough cleaning out Mom's house.  I say it that way because Dad passed away in 1995.  I opened a closet just after taking this picture and found his jackets and Carharts, a couple fishing rods and tackle boxes, a rain jacket, as if he had just left them.  It's all so weird.  My sister says she can only do it so long each time because it makes her soul tired.  Well said, my darling.  

This all seems a little intimate, but after all.  You've seen behind my sofa.  We are old friends.  This was my room growing up.  It's changed a lot.  It had a blue linoleum floor then, a bed along the wall to the left, a dresser along the wall to the right and a little desk in the corner in the center of the picture.  I didn't grow up with much.  I was a grown up adult before I ever saw a closet full of clothes.  It was such an extreme experience that I still remember it to this day.    

We made garbage piles,  Goodwill piles, and piles to try to sell.

But mostly the lesson for me is that this was a whole successful and interesting life.  The associated STUFF is unimportant, really. 

But the sentimental aspects are huge for those involved.  Let me grab a tissue and I'll continue. 

This little kitchen is where I learned what food was.  My mother was a really great cook.  Not a gourmet.  A Paula Deen sort of cook. 



She fried chicken in Wesson Oil in an electric skillet on the counter in the near right view of this picture.  She made the most fabulous homemade raised donuts.  I can smell them now as I write this. 

My mother and father were children during the Depression on farms outside Cleo Springs, OK.  They grew up in houses without plumbing.  My dad went to school in a one room school, literally. 

But their children went to College.  My mother went to England and Africa.  The distance they came in life was not humble or small.  And those who have something to say about traditional America can come say it to me.  I am the beneficiary a lot of hardship and pain.

I was in the front of the house, my sister in Mom and Dad's bedroom.  I heard her say, "OH GOD, OH GOD."  We had had a pretty big day.  Found some pretty amazing stuff.  I ran back. But nothing prepared me for this.  So seriously Mom.  What was this about? 

My father had a large collection of records.  You know records?  I looked through them carefully. 

I'm not a record expert. 

Who knows? There could have been something rare and valuable. But probably not.  Mostly Glenn Miller.  No Beatles White Album.  

Remember the Hans and Gretel post?  http://dinnerattheosbornes.blogspot.com/2010/12/big-changes-and-comfort-food.html and http://dinnerattheosbornes.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-trip-home.html and http://dinnerattheosbornes.blogspot.com/2011/01/meat-mom-and-meham.html

And, here is where I stopped to buy penny candy on my way home from school. You might imagine it looked a little different then.  Just a beer and lottery place now.   

You remember penny candy.  No?

Remember.  It's important.  

Pizza Pasta Casserole

Okay, let me get a few kid pictures out of my system, then we'll eat. 


Get her Jake. 

She's fast on that thing. 

And there she goes.

And here she comes.

  

Is it dinner time yet?  'Cause I'm completely worn out.

Pizza Pasta Casserole

1 lb ground beef

2 garlic cloves minced or finely chopped

1 28 oz jar spaghetti sauce

1 8 oz can tomato sauce

1 t. Italian seasoning. 

1/2 of a 1 lb package of spiral pasta, cooked and drained. 

2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese

1/2 an 8 oz package of sliced pepperoni (The other 1/2 package will be used on Valentines day, hint, hint)

10 mushrooms, cleaned and quartered

3.8 oz can sliced black olives, drained.

I'm so glad I discovered local meat from the butcher.  Isn't it cute?  But really, I can't recommend it highly enough.  It is such good quality and so lean. It has been a total eye opener to me.

I quarter mushrooms.  Husband like mushrooms and it gives a lot a extra texture to the dish.  Not sure what else to tell you about that.  

Brown the meat, remove most of the liquid and add the mushrooms and garlic and cook for a few minutes to sweat the mushrooms.

Meanwhile in a separate pot, cook the pasta and drain.  I'm really liking these mini pasta.  About half the size and very cute.

Quarter the pepperoni and add them to the meat mixture, taking the time to separate the slices that are stuck together.  If there are creatures at your feet, 2 legged or 4, consider giving them a bite. 

Add the Spaghetti sauce, the tomato sauce and the seasonings.

I nibble as I cook.  I've mentioned that it is a wonder I don't weigh 200 lbs, but I don't.  Good metabolism and good genes.  I recommend that. 

Now put it all together. 

Oh wait a second.  Sorry, this happens all the time, now.  

The Rock star!

And the Mama. 

Now, back to food. 

Into a 13 by 9 inch Pyrex pan.  The meat mixture, the sauce, the pasta.  Toss it to mix.  Add the cheese and toss with a spatula . 

Bake at 350 degree for 20 minutes.

Makes a nice week night casserole. 

Remember to do the best that you can and that's good enough.



Where Does Flavor Come From?

Where does flavor come from, Mommy?  Well, Dear.  Flavor comes from real food.  Some nice people are suing Taco Bell saying that the meat in their tacos isn't all meat and has a bunch of chemicals in it.

http://www.foxnews.com/health/2011/01/25/wheres-beef-taco-bell-sued-ingredients/

Actually, Dear, all fast food has chemicals in it.

Some people are saying that we need the chemicals for flavor, that the chemicals make it taste good.  But those are bad people and you are never to talk to them. 

Chemicals are imitation flavor.  Remember that, now! 

Mommy doesn't know why people would be confused about taco seasoning.  Because it is really easy.  We have our own taco seasoning recipe that tastes good, is easy to make and is made of real dried herbs and spices from our cabinet at home. 

Here is how we make it

Taco Seasoning Mix.
2 t. dry minced onion
1 t. salt
1 t. chili powder
1/2 t. dried minced garlic
1/4 t. dried oregano
1/2 t. ground cumin

See?  It's really very easy.  We get hamburger from the freezer, cook it, add the mix that Mommy makes and put it in the taco.  This recipe makes the equivalent of one of those packaged taco seasoning mixes from the store.  This isn't a perfect solution, but have your read the ingredients of those packages?

Remember that this whole thing just isn't brain surgery.

Shared with culinarybliss.blogspot.com
and prairestory.blogspot.com


and TheNourishingGourmet.com
http://www.thenourishinggourmet.com/2011/01/pennywise-platter-thursday-january-27th.html

BIG, BIG personalities

What I'm about to tell you is going to sound like a tall tale, but I swear to God it is 100% the truth. 

Papa/Husband brought Brilliant Baby and a cup of coffee to me in bed this morning.  This kid is used to a little snuggle first thing in the morning, so he got right under the covers. 

But Curious George was on down stairs and I was watching the Channel 8 news so he wasn't likely to be happy for long.  I handed him my cell phone. 

He flips it open, smiles big and starts pushing buttons.  I leaned towards him to keep an eye on him, just to make sure he doesn't like call my sister or something.  Almost immediately, I hear a sound and look closely and he has taken a picture with my phone.  Well, a picture of the blankets on the bed, but a picture!  He looks up at me and says "ha ha"  and some other baby stuff that I can't translate.

He continues pushing buttons and I glance over to see that he has the menu of my address book open on my phone.  I say 'No No, Baby" and reach for the phone.  He says "Ahhhh" loudly and pulls away. 

Just then I see the screen where you send text messages.  It's just a wonder I know what it looks like because I rarely send text messages.  Almost never, if the truth were known, but I do know what it looks like.

Just then I hear a tone that I know is the tone when a text message is sent.  Okay, which of my friends or relatives did he send a blank message to?  So I take the phone from him.  He let's out the Indian warpath yelp.  He has sent a text message to his father.  And he has sent the picture of the blanket as an attachment.  To his father.  He has selected his father's name from a list in my address book.  His father.  No text, of course.  Brilliant Baby can't speak real words, let alone spell. 

Just then, I hear a phone tone in another room.  And I hear Step Son say "what the heck?" and I yell out, "Your son did that."  Step Son says, "Whatever!" in his surfer-dude voice (that's another story worth telling one day). 

We settle back into Channel 8 news.  He still has my phone and he did the exact same thing again.  Sent his Dad a blank text with the blanket picture as an attachment.  To his Dad.  With a picture of a blanket.   

We get up and start getting ready.  Now BB is an Osborne. 

And Osbornes have Big, Big personalities, every last freaking one of them.  I mean that in the nicest, kindest, most sympathetic and helpful way, Dear.  But It's genetic.  Just saying.

Look what fun we had.  

Hiding in Papa's Closet.

This was a good game.

And now to MeeMaw's closet.

And, Yes, he still has my phone.

Remember to have fun, but remember to be out of the job market when this kid and his generation enters it.

Margarita

There was a time when we ate out quite a bit.  I'm not really a mixed drink person, but once upon a time, I used to order a Margarita here and there.  

Anyway, I decided the other day that I would learn to make a homemade Margarita.  I've done some research And here it is!


You'll need fresh squeeze lime juice, tequila, simple syrup and Triple Sec. 


If you want to rim the glass with margarita salt, you'll need that too. 


Make the simple syrup by heating 1 c. water and adding 1 c. sugar.  Desolve the sugar in the water and cool.  Put it in the refrigerator.  Do this ahead. 

Put the glasses in the freezer for a little while to get them very cold.  The filtered water dispenser on my frig door has a crushed ice setting.  I crushed some ice before I started and put that in the freezer as well. 

Now.  To assemble the drinks.  Take one glass from the freezer.  Dip it into the lime juice, then the margarita salt.  Pour a little of the crushed ice into the glass.

I don't usually measure in ounces and my recipe is in ounces.   I searched my kitchen for a measuring cup in ounces prior to starting.  That would be the middle set of numbers.





  

For each glass, 3 ounces tequila, 2 ounces lime juice, 1 ounce simple syrup and 1 t. triple sec.  Pour into the glass and make another. 

Just to be clear here:  3 ounces of tequila is a lot for this light weight.  So...

It was delicious, and I recommend the recipe.

But remember to be careful.

The Show Is The Thing.

I'm a behind the camera sort of person.  That's okay.  Not everyone belongs on the stage.

His sister is always practicing for the "show." 

I remember her talking about this for over a year.  She likes to be the center of attention.

Others are preparing for the show also.  

The Barbies have put on their best and have come out to watch.

Others want to see the show.

Jessica and Scooby Doo are waiting.  They've become good friends. 

Show biz people.  I mean really!  This one kind of worries me.  

Remember to practice for the show.