I have learned that a roast chicken is one of Mr P’s love languages.
Srsly.
Unfortunately I always forget this fact until I actually roast a chicken, and he starts voluntarily doing The Crap Jobs We Both Hate and hanging out washing and all sorts of things. I mean, I could probably use roasting a chicken as leverage for something a bit more, exciting, but sure, we had a roast chicken last night and now the skirting boards in the living room are clean so who am I to complain?
Thank god it is straightforward.
Note that I don’t say EASY. The fact that roasting a chicken takes a bit of time means that you have to think about dinner a bit earlier than usual, and when it seems like you spend half your sodding life thinking about what the members of your household might eat come suppertime that can indeed be a bridge too far. If this is you, please, for the love of all that is good in the world, keep the sides simple ( I did mash and peas, and catering is literally my job). You are making dinner, not stressing yourself out even more.
And you might even get clean skirting boards out of it.
