Bebé poulet
Miles’s skin was getting dry, so, on the advice of the doctor, I rubbed him with a little olive oil.
It seriously felt like I was making game hens, only I skipped the salt and pepper (and oven).
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Are you seeing someone over at UIHC?
Pete was recently insisting, “I am not a food!” in response to my threatening to gobble him up. It’s good to be reminded now and then.
Mark: We’re seeing someone at the Southeast Family Care clinic (UIHC-affiliated but out on Scott Blvd)–the family practioner Denny goes to.
Carolyn: How’s little Pete doing, anyway? I haven’t seen you guys forever.
Just wondering. Doesn’t sound like the kind of advice they’d dish out over at UIHC.
Also, God forgive me for having a vision of perfectly browned chicken skin in my mind. I feel like one of those stranded sailors in the Looney Tunes cartoon who are so hungry that Bugs (or was it Daffy?) starts to look like a big cooked chicken (or is it turkey?).
Thank goodness you didn’t follow the recipe.
Well, that’s because he was already baked. 😉
I wouldn’t worry unless you’re told to stuff his diaper with rosemary and garlic.