You begin with the onions, that’s the first thing. Softened in butter. Generous butter.
It’s a simple thing. Roast chicken. Every Sunday.
He taught me. This recipe was his. Insisting. Moist. Flavorful. (I was never a chicken person, not in any way. Too average, too messy. Too dry. This above all.) Calm the internal hemorrhaging (that’s what he said). This will be—delicious.
Mary Frances remembers. She cooks, she relives each meal. To find the one where everything changed. Was it the chicken? Or the gingerbread? She never meant anyone any harm.
A slice of the life of the classic food writer, MFK Fisher.
A play that takes place in the time a chicken roasts.
A life told in meals.
A ménage à trois over dinner.
Full length - 2W / 2M
Unproduced and available for production
Download a dialogue sample