I DON'T LIKE ROAST CHICKEN.
After all that hullabaloo last month, I've finally just decided that I don't like the stuff. Here's what happened. I think the day after I made the roast chicken that I blogged about two whole times, I was walking through the grocery store and the front of Cook's Illustrated sat there, mocking me.
"WEEKNIGHT ROAST CHICKEN: Great Flavor, No fuss," it said.
So I bought it, and I read it, and I decided that I was an absolute genius because I figured out that I should roast the chicken in a skillet before anyone ever told me to. Then I decided that I'd need to make another roast chicken. Last night, I did.
And I realized that I don't like roast chicken. In fact, I don't really like chicken unless it's in something like chicken tacos or chicken and dumplings. It's really sad, too, because roast chicken is just about the most economical meal with meat that I can think of. Plus it smells great. I just don't like it. In fact, I've pretty much known this for years.
I had this realization about all things with sesame not too long ago. I decided that I wasn't going to make any new bread recipes that had sesame oil or sesame seeds, so I haven't, but then I went and made Ina's Asian Salmon, and remembered that I don't like sesame and my dinner was effectively ruined.
So I'm done making roast chickens I think. And things with sesame. And butternut squash. And mustard. And I'm done with thinking that I like coffee without a hundred tons of flavored creamer. I am a grown up person, I can eat and drink what I want, right? That argument doesn't hold for Mr. Ouiser, though. He still has to eat at least one bite of whatever vegetable I fix with dinner. Poor Mr. Ouiser. I have to convince him to try things almost more often than S. It's a tough life he leads, I tell you.
What about you? Are there things that you continually make that you don't actually like? Are you, like me, ready to just say, "I do not like them, Sam I Am."