Off with his head!!

I have a rooster in my freezer. Beheaded, plucked, and ready to be basted and roasted. But I can't bring myself to thaw him out. Him. Maybe that's part of the problem. I'm referring to the poultry like I know him on a personal level. Like he's a relative of mine. Well, he is in an odd sort of way. He came from my sister's house. She and her husband live in beautiful middle-of-nowhere, deep in the Appalachian mountains, where they have a dog, two cats, a couple bee hives, and of course, poultry. My frozen friend lost his head after he and a few of his buddies wouldn't leave the women in the coop alone. They were continually harassing the poor girls- chasing them around and plucking their feathers. So across the chopping block they went. Now that's what I call justice. Imagine if that's how it worked in our world. You are walking around the mall and an annoying member of the opposite sex starts heckling you and your feminine assets. "Umm, hello, mall cop? Yes, this man is harassing me. Could you please take him downtown for beheading now?" I think that sexual harrassment would immediately come to an end across the nation.

Back to my freezer dilemma. Mr. Rooster/domestic violence convict has been in my freezer for nearly a month now. I know he will be tasty once he's cooked, but I'm scared. If I mess up the dish, it's personal. I can't just chuck him in the trash- that would be wrong, and I'd see him in my nightmares. I have to get this right the first time. My brother in law has told me the best way to cook him- rub the outside with olive oil and herbs, and roast him- I mean it- in the oven. (This is wierd- I've never referred to my raw chicken as "her" before.) I think I'll set a date for the big thaw. Let's say---- next Wednesday. I'll work up the courage, and let you know how it turns out. Meanwhile, have a great weekend, and thank the little animals in your own freezer for their contribution to your next meal.