Recipe reverie, blogger acts out

Yesterday's all day snow coating more with continuous whiteness added another  four inches to what has been steadily accumulating this winter.  It  must have affected this blogspot where  I thought I posted this and  yet today I see it had been reverted to a draft...daft why? Blame it on the winter weather.   So here another attempt to publish, winter is getting the best of us and the cyber waves.  

All the descriptive adjectives--pretty, sparkling, fluffy have been exhausted this winter, enough already.  I feel like we are living in a shake 'em up snow globe, no sooner does it settle than Mama Nature sends another blast our way.   I am tired of white and annoyed when it sidelines my plans as it did, confining me to home and hearth.  I did not venture out to drive in the winds with limited visibility nor was I tempted as there were reports of the potential to slide along the roads if the plows had not already been through.. 

 It was a day to stay home and a good day to cook. It has been quite some time since I stuffed and roasted a chicken because for the two of us, it's preferable to stick with chicken parts, breasts or thighs and occasional drumsticks although wings are a great snack.  However the market had these chickens on sale, very cheap and with my purchase of two bottles of wine I got $2 off any poultry, bringing the cost to $1.  So I picked up a whole chicken Friday intending to do something with it over the weekend.  Those intentions did not materialize but Monday's snow day  was an opportune time to stuff and roast this bird.  Jerry is not a fan of what he refers to as "sea gull" although he grudgingly eats the day's menu; I am a big fan of chicken, amd roasting filled the house with wonderful scents.  

My bargain chicken stuffed and ready to roast

As I prepared  thestuffing with lots of sage, big bread hunks, broth, butter, sauteed onions and celery I thought about my maternal grandmother Rose, my Polish Baba, with whom I spent a lot of time and stayed most weekends.    I have written about her  many times on this blog. Roast chicken was one of her special favorite Sunday afternoon meals, with all the fixings after we went to morning mass.  She had none of the kitchen conveniences like deep freezers nor microwaves and she did insist on fresh chickens; she did not want those from the  grocery market that would have been sitting for "you don't know how long."  No,  Rose insisted chickens must they be just bled, fresh; , to her that was the only way to ensure a tasty chicken, kill , drain and cook.  They lived in town so while she did not raise her own chickens, she did walk to the local  butcher for a fresh just killed bird on Saturdays.  It was Sarniac's, the  Polish butcher shop where  my grandpap hung out, helped make Polish sausage and played cards and they knew to have a fresh chicken ready for Rose. Sometimes it would still have it's feet attached but she would tell them to leave the feet, which she would remove at home, herself. 

Baba, my grandma Rose about mid 1940"s

Once she brought it home, the ordeal of cleaning it meticulously began, I cannot remember how many times she rinsed and rinsed that chicken and then soaked it in a brine though it seems that hours and hours were involved. I once remarked in childlike wonder that it was clean already to which she said, "oh no Patty, we don't want any dirt or feathers.  Chickens are dirty and you don't want to eat anything like that."  Finally by late Saturday afternoon, she had her fresh chicken ready for  Sunday roasting.  Her oven had no timer so that bird did not get into the oven to begin until after we returned from church and then she would carefully watch and baste it from time to time.  I wish I had a picture of those feasts, they were a meal which she served with pride and a smile.  So today stuffing and roasting a cheap chicken brought the reverie of childhood.  And I thought of how I will not buy  frozen chicken parts in mass bags, and certainly not  those that are processed in Asia.  My chicken choice is fresh, locally Amish grown and processed....I am Rose's grand daughter after all.  It's my legacy, You don't want a chicken that's been sitting around for you don't know how long."  Recipes can stir up our memories..