that's good chicken
Regis and I have never been real fans of chicken on the grill. Usually it's dried out or the outside is charred and the inside is raw. This summer, we've been cooking it on the Weber with hickory chips and it's delicious. We buy legs and thighs, rub them with a little olive oil, and season them with salt and pepper. Indirect heat, my friend, is the secret. And a meat thermometer.
I did my favorite google image search for chicken. I think I would prefer to believe that chicken comes in plastic wrapped packages from the grocery store and is not a real live animal at any point. If I think too much about those chicken trucks that I see drive through town, I would convert to vegetarianism pretty fast. Even a chicken deserves better...they deserve to be free-range, for example. They should have a little yard and a place to peck the ground.
It was warm today but a beautiful afternoon to sit in the yard. We watched the bunnies across the street chase each other from shrub to shrub. They're so cute but I hope a couple of them pack their suitcases and migrate to another part of town.
I don't know if you read my mom's comment about the varmint under our porch. She said my dad would have had a trap set at one hole and he would have been sitting in a lawn chair with a shotgun across his lap watching the other hole. He might have blown the cement steps into a million pieces but the varmint would have been dead. My dad was a true character.
After work I went up to Betty's and we pumped iron. We have a work-out schedule that we've been doing three times a week for three weeks. Sometimes I walk on the treadmill and Betty does the ab-buster (not the thigh master) so we can visit a little. Then we do the iron pumping thing. I have three pound weights don't laugh. I'm quite sure we won't ever make it to the world's strongest man contest but maybe our wing flab will be a little bit less unsightly.
Dogs at the Dump Night. My brother lives in a small town where they built a new waste treatment facility and bought a new one-man garbage truck. In order to get people out to see it, they offered tours, rides in the garbage truck, and free hot dogs. I'm not making this up.
I did my favorite google image search for chicken. I think I would prefer to believe that chicken comes in plastic wrapped packages from the grocery store and is not a real live animal at any point. If I think too much about those chicken trucks that I see drive through town, I would convert to vegetarianism pretty fast. Even a chicken deserves better...they deserve to be free-range, for example. They should have a little yard and a place to peck the ground.
It was warm today but a beautiful afternoon to sit in the yard. We watched the bunnies across the street chase each other from shrub to shrub. They're so cute but I hope a couple of them pack their suitcases and migrate to another part of town.
I don't know if you read my mom's comment about the varmint under our porch. She said my dad would have had a trap set at one hole and he would have been sitting in a lawn chair with a shotgun across his lap watching the other hole. He might have blown the cement steps into a million pieces but the varmint would have been dead. My dad was a true character.
After work I went up to Betty's and we pumped iron. We have a work-out schedule that we've been doing three times a week for three weeks. Sometimes I walk on the treadmill and Betty does the ab-buster (not the thigh master) so we can visit a little. Then we do the iron pumping thing. I have three pound weights don't laugh. I'm quite sure we won't ever make it to the world's strongest man contest but maybe our wing flab will be a little bit less unsightly.
Dogs at the Dump Night. My brother lives in a small town where they built a new waste treatment facility and bought a new one-man garbage truck. In order to get people out to see it, they offered tours, rides in the garbage truck, and free hot dogs. I'm not making this up.
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