The Hub walked into the kitchen with a big smile already on his face. He took a deep breath. “Roast chicken is so wonderful,” he said.

And it is. Simple, no fussing, fragrant, pleases everyone but vegetarians. I stuff mine with fresh herbs from the backyard, a few garlic cloves and the halves of the lemon that I first squeeze on the outside of the bird. Rub on some olive oil, salt and pepper.

Roast chicken is such a great thing to have around, too. I usually cook two at a time, because with the wave of a knife they can turn into enchiladas, salad or, my recent choice, chicken pie. I was feeling like a crankypants, and figured comfort food and a beer would do the trick. They, plus The Hub’s smile, did.

I used refrigerated pie crusts. Shreds of chicken in the bottom crust, some black pepper and a small, finely minced onion after that. Then chicken broth, about a cup’s worth. I sprinkle on a tablespoon of flour to thicken. Then, the top crust (remember to vent), 30 to 40 minutes in the oven and even more nice aromas.