Contest-Winning Orange Glazed Cornish Hens

I asked Megan O'Brien to marry me.

Thursday evening. I told her I wanted to take a walk before dinner. She said, "A walk?" I said, "On the bridge." She said, "The Hoan Bridge?" I said, "You love that bridge." She said, "I love that bridge." She put on her jacket and we drove there in the Jeep with the top down and the early summer air warm and the sky starting to turn golden.

We walked out onto the bridge. The lake was on one side, the city on the other. The sky was doing the thing — the pink, the gold, the purple. Sailboats on the water. The Milwaukee skyline behind us. Megan was talking about something — I don't even remember what, my heart was beating so loud it drowned out everything — and we reached the spot, the spot I'd scouted, the apex where you can see everything.

I stopped. She stopped. She looked at me. She said, "Why did we stop?"

I got down on one knee. I pulled out the ring. The simple solitaire on the thin gold band. The one that caught the light like her eyes. My hands were shaking. My voice was shaking. Everything was shaking except the certainty.

I said, "Megan. I love you. I have loved you since the nachos. I will love you until there are no more nachos. Will you marry me?"

She looked at the ring. She looked at me. She said, "Jake Kowalski."

She said, "Finally."

She said yes. She said yes before I finished putting the ring on her finger. She said yes and then she kissed me and then she laughed and then she cried and then she said, "I knew." I said, "You knew?" She said, "You've been looking at the coffee can for three months." The coffee can. She knew about the coffee can. She knew and she waited. She waited for me to get there. Like she always does.

We stood on the Hoan Bridge at sunset and she wore my ring and we held each other and the city sparkled behind us and the lake was endless ahead of us and I thought, this is it. This is the moment. This is the best moment of my life. And then we went to dinner and I couldn't eat because I was so happy and she ate my food because she could always eat and we called our parents from the restaurant. Linda screamed. Tom said, "About time." Patrick said, "Welcome to the family, kid." Colleen cried. Everyone cried. I cried. Kowalski men cry now. We're evolving.

We ended up at a restaurant that night — a good one, the kind of place with cloth napkins and a wine list — and I genuinely cannot tell you what I ordered. Megan says I ate two bites and spent the rest of the time staring at her hand like I’d never seen a ring before. She’s not wrong. So a few days later, once the phone calls were done and the champagne was gone and it was just the two of us in the apartment feeling the warmth of it all, I wanted to actually cook something worthy of the moment — something that felt like a celebration but also felt like us. These Orange Glazed Cornish Hens were exactly that: a little fancy, a little golden, the kind of thing you make when ordinary dinner just won’t cut it.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 55 min | Total Time: 1 hr 10 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 Cornish game hens (about 1-1/2 lbs each), halved lengthwise
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
2 tablespoons olive oil
3/4 cup orange marmalade
3 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon fresh orange juice
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
Orange slices and fresh parsley, for garnish

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Pat the hen halves dry with paper towels and place them cut-side down in a lightly greased 13x9-inch baking dish.
Season. Brush the hens with olive oil, then sprinkle evenly with salt, pepper, and garlic powder.
Make the glaze. In a small saucepan over medium-low heat, combine the orange marmalade, butter, soy sauce, orange juice, ginger, and red pepper flakes if using. Stir until the butter melts and the glaze is smooth, about 3—4 minutes. Remove from heat.
Glaze and roast. Spoon half the glaze generously over the hens. Roast uncovered for 30 minutes.
Glaze again. Spoon the remaining glaze over the hens and return to the oven. Roast for an additional 20—25 minutes, until the skin is deep golden and caramelized and the internal temperature reaches 165°F at the thickest part of the thigh.
Rest and serve. Let the hens rest for 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with orange slices and fresh parsley. Serve with roasted vegetables or wild rice to catch the pan drippings — do not waste those drippings.

Nutrition (per serving)

Contest-Winning Orange Glazed Cornish Hens — The Night We Were Too Happy to Cook