So Friday night we got a chicken, seasoned him up, dropped him on a stick and covered him with a bucket.
The Island King put up his chicken wire fence, dumped charcoal around and on top of the bucket and the cooking began.
About an hour later we smelled chicken cooking but he kept saying that was ok – the chicken would be ready when the alarm went off.
We sat around the fire, blew up a bag of flour, made some rice with tomatoes and okra to go with the chicken and finally the alarm went off.
He raked the coals away from the bucket
Lifted the bucket off the chicken
And we saw this
Looks a little on the done side to me.
The Island King was trying to figure out what went wrong when it dawned on him that you don't need to cook a 4 lb chicken for as long as you need to cook a 15 lb turkey.
About the same time, I realized that you don't let a man who's been drinking Wild Turkey all evening set a food timer.
We tried to eat it but just couldn't handle more than a few bites.
Even Buddy the Beagle didn't eat much of it and what he did eat he threw up on the tent floor later.
We'll try it again but next time I'm setting the timer.