Roasted Chicken:
Fall is upon us; it is November. There’s a great movement on Facebook to say one thing you’re grateful for every day in November. Here is mine: Pumpkin season is over. No more Pumpkin Spice lattes, beer, muffins, scrambled eggs, croissants, pasta, or Drunken Punkin Chardonnay (if you know how to trademark that name, please let me know in the comment section.) I HATE pumpkin flavored stuff. It is omnipresent in all groceries, markets, restaurants, etc. But I digress. Hell, digress is all I do nowadays.
Anyone who knows me – how much time I spend in my kitchen, the wonderful things I can do to all shapes and sizes of pork – may be surprised to know I’m a total newbie when it comes to poultry. I mean I’ve cooked chicken before – I’m famous for my chicken salad – but the whole bird? I’ve only tried it once. And dealing with the neck was so graphic and upsetting that I almost ran screaming into the night. But I recently read an article in which eight roasted chicken recipes were put through an NCAA bracket-like competition, and decided to attempt the winner’s recipe. Thomas Keller, Michelin-starred owner of Per Se and The French Laundry came out on top, and only the best will do. I have to wonder though – could it possibly be better than the enormous juicy rotisserie chickens that Sam’s Club sells for an impossible $5.00? Let’s find out.
Ugh. It’s just so defenseless. So nude. It needs a hat.
Shriner Chicken.
The recipe calls first for a two to three pound chicken. Ooookaaaay. The smallest my grocery carries is six. I don’t know where to get a smaller chicken unless I truck over to the stinky health food store or Whole Paycheck, but that’s near the mall, and it’s November, and I’m not squandering a hard-earned day off work sitting in traffic. (I already squandered a good thirty minutes trying to find out where the eggy smell in the kitchen was coming from. Answer: sponge holder. Gross.) Also this chicken has been “enhanced” by the same good people who have ruined grocery store pork for me forever. I don’t know exactly how it’s been “enhanced”, but there seem to be little holes poked in the skin. Making chicken salad almost bi-weekly, I’ve discovered that grocery stores have pretty much ruined chicken as well as pork – you buy six breasts, and you get maybe four edible ones. The others are hard, stringy, and grotesquely huge. I imagine poor bosomy chickens toppling over in the barnyard under the weight of their gigantic breasts. I can sympathize. So I am not starting with the best possible ingredients here.
First lesson learned: you get used to touching it. I tried not to handle it too much, or look at the mystery bag of parts, but once it dried off a bit, it wasn’t that bad. Since I’ll have to truss it later, I’d better get over my squeamishness. Mr. Keller calls for thorough drying (inside and out!), and I’m not 100% sure how to achieve that. I wash it and pat it with paper towels, then let it sit for awhile. I hope the inside dries itself. It becomes pliable and almost poseable.
While the chicken dries and comes to room temperature, I whip up a batch of my roasted vegetables, since I’m going to serve the chicken with buttered noodles, and need to add some color and vitamins to an otherwise beige meal. Also I’ve discovered that, despite not really liking vegetables, I kind of like my roasted vegetables. Also I have all the ingredients sitting around.
Now the waiting game begins. I’m waiting for the chicken to dry and come to room temperature, and I’m also waiting to start cooking the chicken until my husband comes home from work, or thereabouts. One of THE most difficult things about cooking is trying to get all the components of a meal to finish cooking at the same time. The vegetables can be easily reheated, and I can get the noodles ready-ish, but there have many nights in my house where, due to my inaccurate timing, we ended up eating dinner at 8:30 like Spaniards.
(Later)
Well it’s 5:00, so I think it’s safe to start cooking the bird. Mr. Keller recommends trussing the bird first. Help me Google; you’re my only hope. Okay, so here’s my first attempt at trussing – no joke:
How distressing. Distrussing (pun!). There seems to be a lot of, um, extra skin and meat around the, um, hind end of the chicken? I’m trying REALLY hard not to use the word “asshole” here. I give it another go, trying to gather as much, um, hind end stuff as possible into the knot. I feel like Dexter.
Well that will just have to do. No, that’s not knitting yarn. It’s kitchen twine. I promise. Please consider this bird professionally trussed.
The oven gets preheated to 450. Mr. Keller then instructs me to “rain” one tablespoon of kosher salt down upon the bird so that it gets evenly coated. Okay. I do my best, despite the fact that I’m pretty sure “rain” isn’t a technical cooking term. It goes into the oven for 50 to 60 minutes, but since my bird is approximately twice the recommended size, I’m going to err on the side of caution. Thank heavens for my meat thermometer. 70 minutes it is. There are no further cooking directions. Just leave it alone, he advises. No basting, no poking. I leave it alone.
Another digression: It must be noted that a small miracle happened today. While I was drying, trussing, and otherwise abusing this chicken, both my pets decided to hang out on the porch. Usually when I’m cooking, especially with meat, they become extraordinarily attentive, staring lasers into my head and can generally turn the whole process into bloodsport. But today they chose to nap outside. I don’t know why this happened, but I may tell Facebook that I’m grateful.
Well now. That looks pretty good. The next step would be to “slather” the bird with “fresh butter” (yeah, right) and thyme. I don’t have any thyme. I’m not going back to the grocery, so I leave it at black pepper and a little more salt. And plenty of stale butter.
Not bad. I’ve spent the day feeling like a serial killer, washed my hands (cutting board, sink, countertop) 300 times, and hopefully have put a decent meal on the table. The chicken is juicy and flavorful. The skin is crispy, though a bit salty. There are plenty of drippings if I wanted to make gravy. It’s certainly good, but for ease and flavor I may stick with Sam’s.
Thanks, Mr. K!
illdothedisheslater 