Man plans, God laughs…
Hadn’t had beer can chicken in awhile, and so like any right-minded Southern redneck I collected up the ingredients necessary to rectify that situation:
1) whole chicken
2) rub
3) cheapest beer in a can I could find in my fridge (in this case, a PBR tall boy.)
Well, turns up even a greased-up tall boy won’t fit inside your average-sized chicken, and worse, PBR apparently uses some cheap-ass inferior aluminum that crumbles like a nervous 4th-string quarterback under even the least amount of pressure. And so, on its belly the chicken went.
THEN about 2/3rd through the cook I ran out of apple, and had to supplement with what I had on hand (a hickory/maple/cherry blend.) THEN it reached the desired IT way before I planned, and so into the oven it went until dinner time.
You know what, though? Still pretty damn good, which just goes to show that it’s really, really hard to mess up chicken!