Mornings are rough. No matter how much time I spend in the Adult World, I just can’t seem to acclimate to the early hours a day job requires.
Thankfully, there’s coffee.
With a cup of coffee in hand, I am protected from the evils of a nine-to-five job. And though good coffee is preferred, okay, or even mildly crappy, coffee is still acceptable. There’s just something about the way the cup fits in your hand that creates a barrier against reality, if only for a few minutes.
And here it is, the final component to the perfect roasted chicken. Okay, so it has nothing to do with the actual roasting process. But I guarantee* that this is such a magical addition, it will become an essential part of the dish.
We’re talking about gremolata, typically a combination of garlic, herbs and zest. In this version, finely minced garlic is combined with finely chopped fresh parsley, minced lemon and orange zests, S & P.
*This is based on nothing. In fact, I don’t really guarantee anything. You may not even like the thing. It doesn’t really matter, because if you don’t like it, it’s safe to say that I don’t like you.
Ah, you’ve returned. Well good. Now we can get back to that chicken.
To back up just a bit, instead of placing the quartered chicken on a plain old baking sheet, let’s add some color. Chop five or so medium leeks and clean well. Scatter them on a sheet pan lined with aluminum foil and drizzle with oil and a touch of S & P. When cooking the chicken, lay them directly on the leeks. All other steps outlined in Part One remain the same.
While the chicken is cooking, peel and dice potatoes and butternut squash and boil in water in two separate pots. Once they are fork-tender, drain, combine in one pot and mash or whisk until smooth. Season with butter, S & P.
Now, there’s one more installment in The Perfect Roasted Chicken Series. I know you’re thinking, Damn–how could this recipe get any better? Come back tomorrow to find out.
Every time you roast a five-pound chicken, that is. And that chicken has to be quartered, you know. Besides that, there are only…nine more rules:
1. Preheat oven to 400-degrees Fahrenheit.
2. Season the chicken well with salt and freshly ground black pepper on each side.
3. Sauté the legs skin side down over high heat in a pan with a bit of oil. Cook until the skin is brown and crispy; check on it frequently to make sure it does not burn.
4. Transfer the legs to a baking sheet lined with aluminum foil. Bake for 10 minutes.
5. While the legs are roasting, saute the breasts as you did the legs.
6. Once the legs have been roasting for 10 minutes, add the breasts to the sheet pan and reduce the heat to 375-degrees. Cook for 10 minutes more.
7. Reduce the heat again to 350-degrees and roast for an additional 10 minutes.
8. Remove the chicken from the oven and allow to rest for 5-10 minutes.
9. Eat as is–I won’t judge you, it’s delicious–or stay tuned for Parts Two and Three to make it special enough to eat in your underwear. Stick with me and you’ll end up with something that looks like this:
Last summer, I jumped out of a plane with my brother and dad off the coast of Kauai. Last year, I ate a Puka Dog. I’m still not sure which is the greater triumph.
A Hawaiian take on the classic hot dog, a Puka Dog seems wrong, but feels so right. Except if you have more than one. Then you’ll just feel like vomiting, which we nearly did.
Before you can even think about eating this in your underwear, it’ll be gone–that’s how good it is. Then you’ll think, Yum–I want another, but I assure you, you don’t. Have one and be done.
eating in your underwear 