Chicken Little

Or is that "little chicken"? Well, either way, here it is - tonight's dinner. Since I didn't have electricity or gas the last two evenings, I went into town hunting something for dinner. Both evenings, I got myself all psyched up for chicken and headed to the little shop downtown that sells rotisserie chicken. And both evenings, I was told that it would be at least an hour before any chicken would be done (why would chicken be done and ready to sell at dinner time, anyway?). So, I settled for something else far less tasty and far less healthy.

By today, I was really craving some good chicken...enough that I decided it was time to figure out the rotisserie feature in my own oven. When I bought the oven a year and a half ago, the salesman was all ga-ga about the rotisserie, but I could never figure out how to use it (yes, I did try reading the manual...I am in fact an obsessive manual reader...but this one is written in German). I finally figured it out and the beauty you see above is the result (not so pretty anymore, but oh-so-tasty!). An occasion to be celebrated! So, I broke out my last Stove Top stuffing mix to go with the chicken. No use hoarding it, anyway. Every day is a day to be celebrated, right?

As my chicken was cooking, I was thinking about all of the things that I make now without a second thought, things that I never made in the US. Before I moved to Romania, I think I made lasagna twice in my entire life; now, I make it every month and eat it almost every week (some day I'll post a picture of my freezer after the beginning-of-the-month cooking spree - I make tons of serving size dishes that I just have to thaw and bake later...my version of the TV dinner that you can't get here). Before I can make lasagna, I have to make my own pasta sauce, something else that I had never done in the US. Syrup, frosting, croutons, garlic bread - I'm so used to making my own now that I'm not sure I would even like the "store bought" versions anymore. I've baked more cookies in the last year than I had in the previous 20; to my sister's chagrin, I've even learned to make snickerdoodles (she only wishes I had learned to make them before I left the US). It's easy for me to understand how any Romanian woman could spend her entire day in the kitchen...that's where I'll be spending my Saturday this week!