And How Would You Like that Cooked?

It took Tiffany and I a long time to figure out the most convenient way to use our crockpot besides for cooking steel cut oatmeal. (That, my friends, is the easiest thing ever: you combine the oats, water, and, if you're feeling a little fruity, whatever berries you've got on hand, and turn the crockpot on while you sleep. In the morning, fresh oatmeal.)

Anyway, when we first got our crockpot, we bought a book of healthy crockpot-specific recipes. But I found that most of them might as well have been prepared the regular way--on a stovetop--what with all the pre-cooking of the meat and sautéing of the vegetables.

"What is the point of this thing?" I grumbled.

It was my best friend Zac who let us in on the secret of crockpot chicken.

"Just put the chicken in and turn it on," he said.

"By itself?" I asked.

"Or with some carrots and celery or broth or whatever," he said. "It cooks in its own juices and is ready when you get home."

It really was that simple. The first night we came home I breathed in deeply and said:

"It smells just like Nana's house!"

because my grandmother always used to bake a chicken when we came to visit.

But Tiffany and I can mess up even simple things. The second time we tried the crockpot chicken, I got a call just before I left work.

"How long do you think is too long for a raw chicken to sit out?" Tiffany asked me.*

"Oh no," I said. "Did we forget to turn the crockpot on?"

*According to an informal poll of our family members, the answer to this question is: "Don't you dare eat that chicken! Toss it out immediately-- what, are you trying to kill yourselves?"