I woke up this morning to a lake of chicken fat a foot in diameter on my kitchen counter. It spread underneath the microwave and dribbled down the sides of the crockpot from which it had originated. Let this be a lesson to you. Never overfill a crockpot when you make chicken broth from the remains of a roasted chicken. It can result in a huge mess. On the positive side, at least the broth is mostly defatted. And tomorrow I will have gorgeous, yummy chicken soup.
On a sadder note, the other thing that happened this morning, far more tragic than a pool of overflowing chicken fat, is that Star C. Foster, aka Sarcasmo died of a pulmonary embolism. I’ve posted about it on the Metroblog and have tried to gather other posts dedicated to her from across the blogosphere.
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I’m really to sorry to hear that. My sincerest condolences.
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Plus, overflowing chicken broth forces you to, by default, really do a good kitchen cleaning.
I never read Star C. Foster, and I wish I had given how much so many people are praising her.
Okay–I just threw my own chicken carcass in my crockpot. Now what am I supposed to do?