How to Roast a Chicken

Oops, it's been a while. A really long while. I'll spare you the details (it's nothing tragic), but I'll confess that part of it is laziness. And a full-time job. And a wedding to plan. And. And. And.

So the other day some colleagues and I were discussing the ins and outs of roasting a whole chicken. I said I thought it was super-easy and really delicious, but my colleagues had questions about the process, and had experienced failure enough times that they didn't think they were willing to take another stab at it. I hadn't planned to write about it, but I was suddenly feeling inspired by these women, so here goes.

Whether or not you choose to buy organic, free range chicken is really up to you. It costs more than conventional chicken for sure. But it is also never fed GMO feed, or ground-up animal parts, or feed with any vile pesticides or fertilizers. The chickens themselves are allowed to walk, run, preen, dust themselves, etc. You know, like real chickens. 

The ingredients for this dish are simple and you already have them in your kitchen: about a tablespoon of butter, and about a half-teaspoon each of salt, pepper, paprika, and whichever herb you like best. I used a pinch of thyme and some oregano here, but I have used rosemary, tarragon, and dried basil also. You can adjust the amount of each spice as you see fit. (I used to drizzle a little olive oil on the chicken, but then I saw a Julia Child episode where she roasted a chicken and rubbed, like, 20 pounds of butter on the chicken instead, so now I do it this way too.)

The process is also simple. No seriously, even the Texan can do it. He kept exclaiming how easy and delicious it was after his first attempt. I totally agreed.

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. 

2. Rinse the chicken (run a little water inside the body cavity too). Remove the bag of organs if included. 

3. Drip or pat the chicken dry. No need to be all OCD about this. Just blot a little and move on. Cut off any obvious blobs of fat, which usually occur at the tail end. Place in roasting pan, breast side DOWN. Julia Child says this keeps the moisture in the breast meat, which is right where you want it.

4. Rub the butter into the skin in chunks. My pats of butter don't always stick, so I usually wind up with several pats near the top. I figure this is fine because the butter is going to drip down the body of the chicken as soon as it goes in the oven anyway. Sprinkle some of the spice mixture on top. 

5. Place on middle rack in oven and roast for 90-120 minutes, depending on the size of your bird. It is safely cooked once the internal temperature reaches 165 degrees. You can baste the chicken once or twice if you like. More is not necessary. To do this, use either a large spoon or turkey baster and spoon some of the drippings onto the top of the bird, coating the skin. This will result in a crispy-on-the-outside-but-moist-on-the-inside skin.

6. I boil a kettle of water to pour in my sink after I've rinsed the chicken to kill salmonella and other creepy germs. You can also use bleach but bleach is so not environmentally friendly. 

7. I put the organs in a little pot with water, and cook them over very low heat for a while. My dog and cats love a bit of this in their dinner too.

You don't need all that fat rendered off into your pan, so remove the glob!

Buttered, spiced, and ready to roast.

I put a piece of tin foil under the pan so the fat splatterings don't spray all over my oven. Trust me, it's a pain to scrub later. Technically, you aren't supposed to do this because it interferes with even heat distribution, but I do it anyway.

I used to throw root vegetables in the pan with the chicken to roast, but I found that some pieces of potato or carrot or beet were done, while others were too firm. So now I toss them in a single layer on a baking sheet with a bit of olive oil, salt, pepper, praprika, and whatever herb I'm in the mood for. I stick them on that top rack for about 20-25 minutes, and they are done perfectly.

Digital thermometers are easy to use and inexpensive: this one was $10 at Sur La Table. Be sure to insert the probe far enough to measure the center of the meat, where it heats up slowest. Here I put it into the center of the thigh.

The bird will shrink a bit when it is cooking.

Add caption

Leave the meat you aren't eating on the body until you need it. Otherwise all the juices run right out, making your meat dry. I like to carve off (and eat) the legs first, then the wings, then the breast meat. We usually have some breast meat left for a meal the next night, such as chicken pot pie, chicken enchiladas, or chicken soup. The Texan and I can usually get 8 meals out of a single chicken, which makes this a great choice for weeknight meals with enough left for lunch.

Woman, where's my dinner?

Many years ago, I dated a man from a rather, um, patriarchal culture. He expected a meat-centric dinner, piping hot, whenever he stayed at my house. Note I didn't say he helped me prepare a meat-centric dinner.

My cooking skills were still under development at that time. (In truth they always will be, but they have improved tremendously.) I knew which flavors I liked, and which ingredients I was willing and able to use, but didn't always have technique perfected, nor did I have much patience for dishes that needed to simmer for hours on end. Those simmery dishes, though, are the ones that are usually filled with meaty bits and starchy bits, good for filling this man's professional-athlete appetite and quieting his inquiries as to the status of his next meal.

I remembered my mother making beef stew many times, which she usually served over egg noodles. She also used the terms 'beef stew' and 'bouef bourguignon' interchangeably, at least as far as my adolescent ears could tell. I knew she put some wine into the dish, and carrots and maybe celery, but I didn't know how to make it, exactly. Or if there were some small but important distinction to be made between stew and bourguignon, besides that Julia Child made the latter and we Irish made the former.

Determined to show his chauvinistic self I could do it, I called my best friend and begged her to tell me what to do. I knew she'd know, since she'd had more than one live-in boyfriend and was adept at cooking for them.  She told me to cook it for a while, which I thought I did, but apparently not long enough. It never came out quite right, and the wine flavor was never quite tame enough. He always gave me his full, unabridged critique.

Years (and relationships) later, I have finally learned to be patient with meat. I cook my stews long enough to create depth of flavor, and really tender meat. But I hadn't made a real bouef bourguignon until now. Julia Child made it famous, but Ina Garten made it simple: Barefoot in Paris contains a recipe with an introductory note specifically saying how un-fun it is to cook this dish all day long. To which I say, Amen, sister!

I leave the skin on the potatoes for a bit of added color and texture.

I was skeptical about using two different kinds of meat in one dish. To me, that always seems like flavor confusion, since each meat (e.g. beef, pork, chicken) has its own unique flavor. Well, maybe not chicken, since everything tastes like chicken, but beef and pork certainly do. Nevertheless, I seared the beef in the bacon drippings, as directed, and then coated the vegetables with all that fat and a few herbs, too. The wine went in early on, and combined with some broth and a little roux at the end to create a rich, flavorful gravy that could stand alone over mashed potatoes. 

Ina Garten suggests serving the dish with some country bread that has been toasted and spread with a bit of olive oil and garlic. My neighbor just happened to make a loaf the same night I made bouef bourguignon, so I ate it with both bread and mashed potatoes. I'm sure Julia Child and the entire nation of France would be horrified, but if ever there were a bowl full of Man Food, this is it.

Mia's cooking: 1, Patriarchy: 0

Bouef Bourguignon

adapted from Barefoot in Paris by Ina Garten

**I started with 1/2 lb beef and 1/3 bottle wine, and adjusted the rest of the ingredients accordingly, since I made this for myself and not for the entire Russian army. I also cooked mine on the stovetop, not in the oven, since I don't have a Dutch oven.

1 TBSP olive oil (I omitted this, since the bacon will render off plenty of fat)

8 oz bacon, diced (I used applewood-smoked bacon)

2 1/2 lbs beef stew meat

1 lb carrots, sliced diagonally into 1-inch chunks 

2 yellow onions, sliced

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1/2 C Cognac or brandy (I omitted this)

1 (750mL) bottle dry red wine

2  to 2 1/2 C canned beef broth (I used low-sodium vegetable broth)

1 TBSP tomato paste

1 tsp fresh thyme leaves (I used dried)

4 TBSP unsalted butter, at room temperature, divided

3 TBSP all-purpose flour

1 lb frozen small whole onions (I omitted these)

1 lb mushrooms, sliced (I omitted these)

Salt and pepper to taste

1. Preheat oven to 250 degrees, if using a Dutch oven.

2. Heat a Dutch oven or other large pot. Add bacon and cook over medium heat for 8-10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the bacon is lightly browned. Remove bacon from pan with a slotted spoon and set aside. 

2. Sprinkle beef cubes with salt and pepper. In a single layer (work in batches if necessary), sear the beef in the bacon fat 3-5 minutes, until brown on all sides. Remove beef cubes from pan and set aside with bacon. 

3. Toss carrots, onions, some salt and pepper (I added thyme here too) into fat in pan and cook over medium heat 10-12 minutes, stirring occasionally, until onions are lightly browned. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more. Add Cognac if using, STAND BACK, and ignite with a match to burn off alcohol. Return meats to pan, along with juices from the plate. Add wine and enough broth to almost cover the meat. Add tomato paste and thyme, if not already added. Bring to a boil and either cover with lid and put in oven for about 75 minutes, or simmer over low heat for 75-90 minutes with cover just slightly askance. Meat and vegetables should be very tender when pierced with a fork.

4. Place the stew on the stove top, if not already there. Combine 2 TBSP butter and the flour with a fork and stir into the stew. Add frozen onions, if using. 

5. In a medium pan, saute the mushrooms, if using, in the remaining 2 TBSP butter over medium heat for 10 minutes, or until lightly browned, and then add to the stew. 

6. Bring the entire stew to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer, uncovered, for 15 minutes. Season to taste. 

Serve with sliced country bread rubbed with garlic, or mashed potatoes, or egg noodles.
 
 

Names that Start with J

Most people react positively to the news that I have started this blog.  A few (including one notable co-worker) wrinkle their noses, raise their eyebrows, and make remarks such as, "Seriously? A food blog?" as if it were the most trite waste of bytes on the Internet.  And it may be, but such a reaction from ordinarily positive people confused me.

Then last month, in a friendly red Netflix envelope, "Julie & Julia" arrived. I knew the premise: Julie cooks her way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking, something I was eager to see since my mother cooked her way through at least some of the recipes.  I still have her tattered, splattered copy, the spine of which has disintegrated; the book is held closed with a rubber band. I didn't know much about the life of Julia Child before watching the movie, though I'd suspected there was something decidedly un-French about her all the times I'd seen her on public television, eating her way through piles of ingredients ready for whatever she cooked with Jacques Pepin that day. Meryl Streep was perfect in that role, and I loved the movie, even if Julie got a little whiny at times.

Of course, it turns out that Julie, whiny or not, started a food blog about her year-long project with Child's book, which I imagine spawned a hot trend of food blogs in the last few years. Now I understand that nauseated reaction from a select few; clearly my idea was far from novel and I have been living under a large rock for the past few years, which is why I hadn't seen the movie yet and didn't know that everybody and her grandmother writes one of these. 

I'm not cooking my way through anything, except perhaps several bags of flour and sugar, but I am blogging about whatever I manage to accomplish, wrinkled noses be damned.