Peeled what must have been an hundred cloves of garlic and ground them to
a paste along with the peels from six oranges. Mixed the paste with a cup
of coarse salt and bunged it into the cavity and under the skin of a nice
plump chook. Left to permeate for most of the day, then cut out the
backbone and flattened the chook.

Threw it naked and splayed out on the grill like a digger at Buchan's
Point. Cooked until the skin was crisp, squeezed some lemon over, and
flipped. Cooked until juices ran clear.

Along with, some lebo cue salad and ginger-banana chutney.

Got a 9-incher out of it!

Wa-ROONGA!

Julana wrote:

Peeled what must have been an hundred cloves of garlic and ground them to
a paste along with the peels from six oranges. Mixed the paste with a cup
of coarse salt and bunged it into the cavity and under the skin of a nice
plump chook. Left to permeate for most of the day, then cut out the
backbone and flattened the chook.

Threw it naked and splayed out on the grill like a digger at Buchan's
Point. Cooked until the skin was crisp, squeezed some lemon over, and
flipped. Cooked until juices ran clear.

Along with, some lebo cue salad and ginger-banana chutney.

Got a 9-incher out of it!

Wa-ROONGA!


Dammit.... The food stuff you write sounds good, but you have a problem with
credibility, so I don't know whether to take you seriously or not. Reminds
me of a comedy routine from Demetri Martin:


I use this product called "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!". 'Cause
sometimes when I'm having toast, I like to be *incredulous*.

"How was breakfast?"

"Unbelievable".

Sometimes I mix "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!" with butter to make "I
Can Believe Some of It's Butter!".

I was in a restaurant. The waitress said, "Do you want butter with that?"
And I said, "I don't know what to believe anymore."


Bob