I am not sure if one can in fact OD on chicken skin, but I am pretty sure I did last night. I roasted a chicken (do not die of shock from me being in the kitchen) last night. I learned from a french chef how to shove all the deliciousness underneath the skin before roasting. I stuck my swollen pregnant meaty hands under the skin of that organic ball of goodness. I shoved butter, garlic, thyme twigs, salt, pepper, and love inside like a plastic surgeon injects botox underneath Nicole Kidman. The result was a crispy, HD possibly 3D ready chicken skin. I consumed all of the skin in one standing. I prefer to eat standing or in my bed laying down.
Overdosing on perfectly roasted chicken skin was sort of the climax of my eating habits this week. I have been scrounging around, eating every last bit of the last bits. You know how it is, the heals of the bread, the last can of beans, the last remnants of frozen veggies left in the freezer which I probably used on a soar neck a few months ago, meals made up of foods that should never be digested together...I am preparing the baby for the real world people. A world with a mom who will eat anything*, so get on board.
I am breeding an adventurer, I hope. That is how I have decided on my nursery theme...Native Scandinavian American Manifest Destiny meets Theodore Roosevelt. No, I am not kidding. Its complicated, but that is how I does.
Native=Think earth tones mixed with the bright coloring of beads traded for food.
Scandinavian=Imagine simple mid century design and Danish to Iceland's shores during Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth
American=A Journery Down the Mississippi, Up Everest, Around Manhattan, Through the Sonoran desert
Manifest Destiny=Out on the land, pioneers, wooden blocks, handmade blankets for the cold nights in the wagon like the generations before me and the Mowgli family trip through Ellis Island
Theodore Roosevelt=He speaks for himself
Ponder a moment, reflect, think big...then scale back. Limited amounts of plastic, only the necessities, bright colors, some reading material, hand crafted.
Faithsalutes all the chicken skin Nicole Kidman never ate and her fellow Australians, kindred in the rough and tumble.
*We ate at the Spotted Pig in Greenwich Village last weekend and I had to send a salad back because it tasted like a sea bed of salt. So, okay, not everything.
Yes! I'm so glad someone else craved chicken skin when pregnant! With my firstborn I would buy deli chicken from the grocery store just to eat the skin off.
Posted by: Brittany Martin | March 25, 2011 at 03:54 PM
Sea salt? You'll get a GOITER!!
Posted by: Alishia | March 25, 2011 at 06:49 PM
When Corrie was little she would hide behind the couch and eat things she wasn't supposed to have (candy). Now that's me huddled in the corner in the kitchen eating the chicken skin, or Kettle chips (or candy).
Posted by: Katie | April 19, 2011 at 11:03 AM
As much I want to stay away from chicken skin, I can't resist it, roasted skin is so good that nobody can refuse it, it's addictive. :D But be careful with your silhouette.
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