I love to cook. It's so fun to put forth energy towards a nice meal.
That said, there was a period in life where I ate roast chicken once a week. My dad loved it so my mom made it weekly. My sister and I, both totally sick of it, called a family meeting, requesting that roast chicken be served less frequently. (Looking back on it, that's a silly problem to have. My mom roasted chickens; most people now barely have time to cook a meal for thirty minutes let alone slave for hours over a nice meal for their families. I guess older age gives you perspective!)
So fast forward ten years to an adult more appreciative Nicole, cruising the grocery store on the weekly trip. A certain more carnivorous person in the household kept looking longingly at the meats while a certain more budget concious person let him know that I usually buy meat when it's under $2 a pound unless it's exceptional. Mr. Meat told me good luck on finding that!
Enter a organic whole chicken hanging out with its buddies on the bottom shelf: $1.99 a pound. Score!
So tonight I roasted, tomorrow it's going in enchilladas, the day after on a sandwich mixed with a few grapes, some almonds, and mayo. The bones will be saved for a soup stock, though I may accidently drop a few for the dog to much on.
3 meals, one stock, a dog snack, and $10 later, I see I (and my mom who went before me) made a good choice.
So give a roasted chicken a shot. It's not hard, I swear! And like laundry there is that enormous sense of accomplishment from the small amount of labor that involves taking something, shoving it in a machine, and waiting.
Welcome to the world of adulthood, and deliciousness.