Not My Great-Grandmother's Cornish Hen

Every now and then, it's just fun to cook Cornish game hens for dinner. Let's face it: from time to time, every boy likes to have his own little chicken.

Making Cornish hens always makes me think of the story about my great-grandmother's Thanksgiving dinner. One year, while my great-grandmother, Mima, was baking her turkey, my uncle called her outside, saying he had to show her something--I don't now what. But while she was outside being distracted, my great-grandfather, Popeye, swapped out her turkey for a Cornish hen. When the timer went off and Mima opened the oven, she thought her turkey had shrunk!

I never knew what Popeye did with the real turkey or how he managed to keep it warm (or still cooking) while Mima thought it was still in the oven. Somehow, though, he managed, because the Thanksgiving meal wasn't ruined, and nobody went home with salmonella.

I once tried to get Aunt Lorraine to help me play that trick on JoJo. But JoJo was too fast for us. She took her turkey out of the oven and cut it up before we could distract her.

Cornish hens are easy to prepare, easier, in fact, than a regular-sized chicken. And they look so elegant on the plate--like a tiny little turkey dinner. Here's how I do it:

Ingredients:
Cornish hens
Instructions:
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. While the oven heats, wash the Cornish hens and pat them dry with a paper towel. Salt and pepper to taste. I also season with garlic powder. Roast for 45 minutes covered with Reynold's Release Non-stick Foil. By the way, I need to put Reynolds Release on my list of favorite kitchen products, because that stuff rocks. Whereas regular foil would have stuck to the tops of those hens and pulled the skin right off, leaving them looking nekkid and unappetizing, Reynolds Release simply covers. Anyway, after about 45 minutes, remove the Reynold's Release Non-stick Foil and roast for a remaining 15-20 minutes (depending on the size of the hens) until nicely browned on top. Baste every few minutes with the chicken drippings.

And at meal time, it's kind of fun to watch my sons tear into their hens like they're preparing to play Henry VIII in the school play (and let me tell you, they'd get the part).