My mother hates to cook. I hate to go to the grocery store. We have a pact that if I make the shopping list and cook, she will procure. I love this deal. I hate turkey. So off I sent her to get a roasting chicken. Usually when I get one it's 2-3 pounds. Somehow, she found the chicken to end all chickens.... a 5 pounder the likes of which I had never seen. In honor of the wine I was drinking, we named it Rex Goliath. 

I know that wine is for a 47 pound rooster, but this chicken was like a girl in a Kink's song. 

Rex Goliath produced a wonderful thanksgiving lemon and garlic chicken. An a post Thanksgiving chicken and dumplings. And a post-post Thanksgiving chicken pot pie. Honestly. This is the chicken that kept giving the family wonderful meals. 

So thanks Rex, for the food, the joy, the laughs over your oddly humongous size. And here's to the next Thanksgiving. 

L