Becoming Britta: What came first? The Chicken or the Cook?

In Toronto I have decided to try and learn some new things. Dental hygiene and teeth aside I have decided to try and make myself slightly more domesticated. This involved a 2 for 1 sale at Metro, a new found desire to be able to cook as well as a 1950s house wife, and the newly 4 whole chickens I purchased. Well 3 of them now reside in my freezer I took the first one as a chance to practice my new found art of channelling Julia Child and my inner chef. Can you tell what movie I may or may not have watched recently? Anyways I soon learned I needed to invest in a pan and a rack and a few other odds and ends. Though it was slightly stressful and took far longer then the 1 hour the internet recipe had promised me, the results were not disastrous. Henrietta (so I named my chicken) was ever the loving bird and joined me for dinner. I waited a few days before I posted this to ensure that food poisoning did not find me, and now I am assured I am still healthy and alive! So voila! Here is Henrietta in all her glory! (And aside from bragging that I made my own gravy from the drippings… the meal… was amazing!)