left: Abby's plate, right: Mom & Dad's plate
People ask me all the time if I’m interested in having a third kid. The answer (for now, at least) is: Why would I when a cake mixer has two beaters to lick and a chicken has two drumsticks to serve? (Shouldn’t I take it as some sort of sign that the girls are both crazy about the legs while Andy and I are perfectly content with the breast and thighs?) Anyway — I would say a roast chicken is the recipe I get the most requests for from my friends. One of them — Lori — has even gone so far as saying she feels that being able to roast a chicken should be a requirement of motherhood. If that is the case, then I was not an official mother until I came upon this recipe two years ago. It requires no flipping from breast to back — once it’s in the oven, it’s in. I love that. And the carrots it roasts upon drink up all the chicken fat, which the girls love. They pass on the barley arugula salad I made with it last week, so I just let them have a roll. But as far as I’m concerned, it still counts as One Meal.
