Those tiny birds really know how to rope me in.
And it's not just because I fantasize constantly about roasting Margy's evil parrot over hot coals -- no, no. That's just a fantasy. I'm sure the little guy would taste terrible. Not to mention he'd be about four bites.
I guess, with the soft shell crabs and all, I just like eating entire creatures. Anyway, small young chickens are often delectable, and tonight's came from our farmers' market. I gave them a little spice massage and cooked them on the grill over indirect heat, with a bunch of fingerling potatoes sitting by their side. Then I sat them on a bed of summer onions that I sautéed along with a few chilies.
Margy and I enjoyed our summer barbecue while her parrot friend eyed us suspiciously.
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