Have you ever cooked a chicken in a piece of fruit?!

What do a watermelon and a chicken have in common?

Nothing you might think but not if you are a seven year old little girl who gets her life wisdom from YouTube (there are videos out explaining how to cook a bird in a watermelon).

It started like any other Wednesday night, until I found myself watching said seven year old hollowing out a watermelon with not quite the skill of a heart surgeon but with no less determination.

The theory was simple: by placing the chicken inside the watermelon, sealing it up, and popping the whole fruity bird bomb into the oven, the watermelon juices would steam the chicken to juicy perfection.

It was a bold take on the classic steam roast. Except, in this case, the steaming apparatus was a giant summer picnic staple, not a pot. The bird’s limbs stuck out at odd angles, as if even it knew this was not how chickens were supposed to go.

But after much pushing, a bit of minor surgery removing the legs, and some whispered encouragement, the lid of the watermelon was slapped back on, and the whole absurd package was gingerly placed into the oven.

To my surprise, there were no weird aromas filling the air. Now, I’ll be honest; at this point, I was half expecting the watermelon to explode or at least melt into a puddle of sticky red goo. But the kitchen stayed calm – not so much my brain which imagined all kinds of accidents!

After more than an hour or so of waiting and the occasional anxious peek into the oven, the watermelon was triumphantly pulled out. It was wrinkled, deflated, and slightly sad-looking, but the chicken, now freed from its fruity prison, appeared perfectly cooked – the watermelon had released juices that could have doubled as a mid-sized ocean and the chicken needed to be lifted carefully from said ocean and drained.

The bird turned out to be juicy, tender, but pale as the walls in my childhood classroom. Cutting into the freed bird, the flesh was indeed juicy and tender.

Mr T was the first to brave the taste test – I thought he was telling a few fibs when he said it tasted nice but Little Miss Holly followed suit and taking a bite and triumphantly announced the experiment a success.

Despite the watermelon juice presumably steaming the chicken, not one iota of melon flavour made it into the meat.

It was, by all accounts, regular steamed chicken. Tasty, sure, but the watermelon had clearly ghosted the dish. No sweetness, no fruity tang, just a slightly bewildered little chicken.

YouTube has a lot to answer for – I have come across some weird concoctions over the years on the video sharing platform but never had I the urge of following suit.

Saying that, I am happy that Little Miss Holly is curious enough to entice her grandad to try the weird things. I wonder what comes next.