Yesterday was one of those perfect Sundays where you feel like you're living in a Norman Rockwell painting. Light snow started falling mid-afternoon as I was prepping ingredients and SP kept a beautiful roaring fire going for most of the day. Around 5 p.m. the house filled with the smells of roasting chicken stuffed with garlic, onions and celery.
I rubbed the chicken with melted butter, rosemary and thyme. I also cooked the bird at high heat so the skin would get browned and crispy.
In my family you have arrived as a cook when you can make gravy. Following my mother's tutelage, I cut up carrots, celery and onion and place those in the pan under the bird. After they have a chance to get browned a bit, I add chicken broth. When I took the roasting pan out of the oven, SP cringed at the thought of having to clean all the dark, burnt-on bits from the bottom. Never fear, I said, we want those bits for the gravy. Look at that luscious, dark brown color. I was quite pleased with myself.
No roast chicken dinner is complete without silky mashed potatoes smothered with gravy. We also had some of the roasted carrots from the pan and broccoli steamed in chicken broth. I added cheddar cheese for some flavor, but it ended up not being necessary because the gravy came out so well.