How the Gourmet Cooks Do It

I don't think I have discussed the concept of "Fat Friday" quite yet. I suppose now is as good a time as any. In order to make myself eat healthy and work out 6 days a week I allow myself one day a week to eat like a cow and congeal into a fat and sugar induced puddle on the couch. This day is Friday. Every Friday, I make a show of being ridiculously lazy when I get home from work and eat astoundingly unhealthy combinations of food.

During the week, Andy and I watch episodes of Tyler's Ultimate in order to decide what we will consume for fat Friday (how many times do I have to tell you people? I am a NERD!). This week, we saw an episode about the ultimate barbecue chicken and were instantly salivating all over our organic pita chips. Decision made.

Tyler's secret for making the chicken taste smoky without having an outdoor grill was adding bits of crispy bacon the the barbecue sauce. Chicken and bacon. Yep, no complaints here. Friday night rolled around and we scurried from store to store acquiring ingredients for our unhealthy feast.

Then at home, we assembled the sauce lovingly. We crisped the bacon, we brined the chicken, we sauteed onion and garlic, we seared the chicken in the bacon fat. We then transfered our golden chicken to the oven and roasted it with the utmost of care, waiting for the perfect moment to shmear it with our heavenly homemade barbecue sauce. Then, with breathless anticipation, we turned the heat up to caramelize the sauce onto the delightfully crisp chicken skin.

5 minutes passed, and unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I opened the oven and pulled the rack out so I could examine these promises of smoky deliciousness first hand. I looked down and beheld the most exquisite chicken I have ever seen. I inhaled deeply, and a distinctly smoky aroma filled my nostrils. In awe I shouted to Andy, "Andy! This is chicken is glorious! It smells just like barbecue chicken from an outdoor grill! I can even smell the smoke!"

I inhaled again, it seemed even smokier now. Amazed at my efforts, I looked down at the chicken once more and I could swear I even saw smoke curling around the bronzed chicken. That's truly astounding I thought as I leaned closer. It was then that I saw a strange orange flicker reflecting off the oven wall.

Suddenly, I realized that in opening the oven and pulling out the rack with the chicken on it, the tail of my dish towel came to rest on the oven's heating element. And was now on fire. It was from this flaming dishrag concealed under the chicken pan that the smoky smell had been emanating.

I quickly yanked the towel out of the oven and began to swing it around my head in order to put the fire out. This only served to super-oxygenate the flames and they blazed forth with attitude. Finally I flung the towel into the sink and doused it with water.

Smoky chicken indeed. Somehow I don't see that sort of thing happening to Tyler. I'm quite sure this is not how the gourmet cooks do it.

Yeah, I rock.

Cyndi

PS. Kitchen disasters aside, I have worked out for 18 days and have lost around 12-ish pounds.