I enjoyed your reasoning behind the perfect roast chicken you and S have settled upon. However, I find it hard not to insert a half lemon (and shallot) into the cavity. The lemon cuts the birdy flavour somehow. So I guess I am in the opposite camp - needing to counterpoint the poultry taste with something citrus, herby, non-animal. I'll always plump for a sprig of rosemary, + garlic bulb unpeeled, and a shallot; nestled away, so as not to burn.
For me this is the function of the salad dressing (re the acid!) - but I really know it is each to her own chicken - and I certainly enjoy being cooked chicken by other people, in other ways, too!
I like the distinction between 'enjoyable' and 'good/bad' because (imo) they do not need to corrrelate and quite often do not. And I know that van! I'm a frequent visitor to Harwich because my oldest and closest friend lives nearby; we spent a lot of time barrelling around the place as teenagers which is exactly what seaside towns are made for.
The atavistic nature of breastfeeding was such a revelation to me. It made me imagine what a psychological form of atavistic stigmata (that horrible, flawed theory of criminology) might be like. The impulses and feelings I had during my time BF felt like a reversion or (to use a more positive term) uncovering of the bits of me that have kept me alive. When my son was born I was very unwell and for ease, kept him in bed with me on the postnatal ward. It was easier to feed him because I couldn't stand properly. A midwife walked past after I'd just finished feeding and my son and I were dropping off to sleep. She tried to prise him from my arms and before I could muster a more evolved reaction, I bared my teeth at her and growled. She laughed: "Well someone has definitely bonded with baby!" but I have never forgotten how I felt in that moment and the confusion as I 'returned' to a more socially appropriate expression of motherhood.
What a brilliant image of you growing at the midwife! Thank you for sharing it - and yes, having a baby does really open up new/old ways of inhabiting one’s body!!
I enjoyed your reasoning behind the perfect roast chicken you and S have settled upon. However, I find it hard not to insert a half lemon (and shallot) into the cavity. The lemon cuts the birdy flavour somehow. So I guess I am in the opposite camp - needing to counterpoint the poultry taste with something citrus, herby, non-animal. I'll always plump for a sprig of rosemary, + garlic bulb unpeeled, and a shallot; nestled away, so as not to burn.
For me this is the function of the salad dressing (re the acid!) - but I really know it is each to her own chicken - and I certainly enjoy being cooked chicken by other people, in other ways, too!
I like the distinction between 'enjoyable' and 'good/bad' because (imo) they do not need to corrrelate and quite often do not. And I know that van! I'm a frequent visitor to Harwich because my oldest and closest friend lives nearby; we spent a lot of time barrelling around the place as teenagers which is exactly what seaside towns are made for.
The atavistic nature of breastfeeding was such a revelation to me. It made me imagine what a psychological form of atavistic stigmata (that horrible, flawed theory of criminology) might be like. The impulses and feelings I had during my time BF felt like a reversion or (to use a more positive term) uncovering of the bits of me that have kept me alive. When my son was born I was very unwell and for ease, kept him in bed with me on the postnatal ward. It was easier to feed him because I couldn't stand properly. A midwife walked past after I'd just finished feeding and my son and I were dropping off to sleep. She tried to prise him from my arms and before I could muster a more evolved reaction, I bared my teeth at her and growled. She laughed: "Well someone has definitely bonded with baby!" but I have never forgotten how I felt in that moment and the confusion as I 'returned' to a more socially appropriate expression of motherhood.
What a brilliant image of you growing at the midwife! Thank you for sharing it - and yes, having a baby does really open up new/old ways of inhabiting one’s body!!
Growling*