Chicken soup

There are very few things about Mark being away that I enjoy.
In fact I can't think of any . . . aaah. Perhaps watching a crappy film occasionally, that's about it.
It is however a chance for me and the boy person to revel in eating MEAT. Not a lot, just a bit more than we might do when Mr veg curry is here.
The one meat-fest I do miss is the chicken dinner, (free range of course!) There's just something about the roast potatoes, the succulent white meat, and the happy knowledge that the remainder of the feast will become chicken soup. King of soups, king of waste-not-want-not, and endless re-inventions of that last remaining bit of stock. Fab.