Dropping beggar's chicken

Those were the days.

Do you dread hearing your voice on a recording? Or watching yourself on video? That's how I feel about reading things I wrote in the distant past. The other day I opened my own cookbook to consult the recipe for bagels and wouldn't let my eyes wander over the headnotes or anything other than the recipe itself lest I come across a stupid or awkward line it's too late to change. 

This morning I thought, shoot, why did I mention dropping a beggar's chicken? The only way to explain is to link to posts from the start of this blog when the only people who read it were blood relatives. And that means I have to reread them.

I'm so glad I did. They're like sweet, sweet little time capsules. I'd forgotten what my life was like in 2008. It was very different.

Beggar's chicken is a classic Chinese dish and at some point I decided to make it. My mother was still alive and since she was a potter, she created the clay "container" in which you cook the chicken (see photo above.) That's how elaborate beggar's chicken is. I'm not sure I would have written about what happened later, but the lone commenter, thanksalot/sassy Isabel, forced the issue,

What happened was, I dropped and broke the beggar's chicken while pulling it out of the oven.

Later I took Owen out to eat proper beggar's chicken in a restaurant. He was so little! I didn't realize how little my kids were when they're little. I feel like he's all grown up now that he's 13 and has giant feet and a baritone, but in a few years I bet I'll see pictures and be shocked at how young and innocent he looked in 2014.