I Have a Dream

PROLOGUE

Today has been a great day for roast chicken.

It all started with an absolutely delightful discussion with two men who I would easily call chicken experts.  Well, perhaps that's not fair.  One is an expert from the Midwest who has ample roast chicken experience.  The other, well, I think he likes roast chicken. Anyway, some very interesting points were made by the former:

• He wraps his chickens in tin foil to lock in the juices and use them as a steaming agent to make the meat moist
• Halfway through cooking, he flips the bird over
• He tends to (I forget.  If I feel like it, I'll ask him again and fill this in).

Anyway, the fact is, roast chicken has been consuming me, which is rather ironic when the entire point of this blog is for me to consume it.  I've been wondering about if I should marinade the chicken, should I use butter or olive oil or both, should I go for a crisper crust or for a more fall-off-the-bone tender chicken, should I try - and is it possible? - to achieve both, etc. etc.

After my discussion with the aforementioned gentlemen, I poured myself a generous glass of apple cider and reclined in my leisure chair.  I pondered meats, chickens, poultry and yes, that's correct.  It was a gray and rainy day, the leaves turning yellow and the chill of the universe wafting through the silver afternoon sky.  Although, I must admit, I'm not really sure what a silver afternoon sky is.  It certainly sounds nice, though.

I walked home, stopped at the supermarket, determined to roast a chicken.  This time, I didn't fudge around.  I bought a whole, 2.75lb beauty.  I also bought a pre-packaged serving of vegetables.

INGREDIENTS

•  2.75lb chicken
• Onions, garlic, celery, carrots, leeks, turnips
• Olive oil
• Butter
• Salt & Pepper

 PREPARATION

I rubbed butter on the chicken in a very supple way.  I then salted and peppered the bird.  I then added olive oil.  I then added in the vegetables.  I inserted my vegetables into the cavity.  I poured some more olive oil on the vegetables and added more salt and pepper.  I preheated the oven to 400 and cooked the bird for about an hour.

OUTCOME

Better than my first attempt, but much more work remains.  The chicken was juicy and not overcooked, but there lacked any crust.  The vegetables were excellent, and in fact the highlight of the roast.  Lord knows there is nothing wrong with great roast vegetables, but they shouldn't steal the show as much as they did.  You should taste the chicken and say, "I want to take a bath in this chicken."  You should then taste the vegetables and say, "I want to take a bath in these vegetables."  You should NOT want to take a bath in the vegetables and merely want to wash your hands with the chicken.

LESSONS LEARNED

I still do not feel the bird was seasoned well enough.  I may need to stop using a sea salt grinder, in which the salt is applied directly onto the bird via the device; I may need to buy course sea salt, which I can place in my hands and proceed to douse the great bird with. I did not rinse the bird with water before using.  I did not keep good track of the time.

EPILOGUE

After my roast I retired once more to my study and lit my pipe.  Outside I heard an elderly man fall over and cry out in pain, and a few youngsters passed by and laughed at him.  I couldn't help but feel that these same youngsters would have laughed at my chicken, much as they laughed at the old man.  It would be much more calamitous to laugh at my chicken, though, because we expect children to laugh at old people when they are in pain; we do not expect them to laugh at roast chicken.

I buried my chin and smoked my pipe and contemplated this fact, which cannot be proven but is indubitably true.

Should These Meats Be Basted?

I’ve spent a lot of time recently looking at recipes of roast chicken.  Indeed, yesterday I sat in the park, a crisp fall day it was, pouring over classic American cookbooks.  I had also printed out some materials from the internet.  As I delved into the world of roast chicken, an angry man approached me and started slapping me with a stick.  It hurt very badly.  “Stop!” I cried.  He eventually relented.

After this episode, I spoke with some kinder and gentler folks about roast chicken.  Almost immediately, the subject of marination came up. You see, much to my surprise, all of the recipes I have seen for roast chicken call for no marination periods.  You throw in the ingredients and spices and herbs and possibly chicken stock or wine or olive oil, and you cook.  No period of time for these spices and liquids to permeate the meat is called for.

I am now very confused.  Should I marinate the bird?  Should I not?  I will conduct experiments to answer these questions.  I may need to call for the assistance of Beaker, a famed scientist and a capital fellow, if ever there was one.

By the Gods of Zeus

Tonight was my first foray into the world of cooking roast chicken.  For the past 48 hours all I have been thinking about is roast chicken.  The crackly skin.  The taste of roasted, salted poultry with hints of olive oil, garlic, vegetables, and herbs.  Tonight I took a brave step into this world.

On my way home from my day job - I repair luxury Swiss watches at a gentlemen's shoppe down in the Financial District - I stopped at Gristedes, which has to be one of the worst supermarkets in New York and likely in the entire universe.  I bought 3 pieces of chicken breast still on the bone and with skin.  Granted, my goal is to cook a whole chicken, but I thought this would be a suitable initial venture.

I sensuously rubbed olive oil on the breasts, along with garlic paste and salt and pepper.  I actually was worried that I put too much salt on the chicken, but this turned out to be a completely unfounded worry.  Lesson learned: use LOTS of salt.  I cooked the chicken at 400 degrees for about 30 min, and then turned the oven up to 450 and cooked for another 15 minutes or so.

The result?  I didn't overcook the chicken, which is good, as I think one of the biggest challenges will be properly cooking the bird.  Still, despite this victory, the chicken was rather bland.  A very unflavorful, boring, bland roasted chicken.

As I later retired to my chamber to enjoy a cup of tea and a scone, I put Beethoven's 5th onto my record player and relaxed in my armchair, contemplating the mysteries of roast chicken.  A volume of Chaucer, which I must not have properly placed in my bookcase, fell off the shelf and hit me in the head, at which point I gave out a tremendous moan and then started to cry.

To be continued...

Allow Me to Introduce Myself

Oh, hello.  I didn't see you over there.

Perhaps it's the dead of winter and you're feeling sad and lonely.  You want something to eat, but you just don't know what.  Something flavorful, but not too flavorful.  Something succulent, but not too succulent. Something supple and nurturing.  What you want is roast chicken!

Yes, friends, I have felt this way too.  I've decided to start a blog about my quest to make the perfect roast chicken.  Welcome!