Eat Me: A Chicken Story

One of the most exciting parts of getting engaged to Chris (8 years ago! Holy crap, I’m getting old.) was registering for gifts. Sorry, but it’s true. Yes, knowing that I was going to be with the man I loved for the rest of my life was fun too, blah, blah, blah, but y’know, we were barely out of university, and we were po’ with a capital How’d-you-like-your-basement-apartment-and-hand-me-down-futon?

So the idea of getting all this shiny new stuff to fill our hovel with was pretty darn cool. We did what most newly engaged young couples do – we went a tad overboard with the UPC gun (seriously, that thing is fun), and before we new it, we were the proud registrars of cookware and barware and silverware and glassware and every size Tupperware and Corningware in existence.

Luckily, we never ended up with all of the things we scanned on our frenzied registry outings. But we did get some pretty nice shit, including a roasting pan.

Now, eight years ago, the closest I ever came to roasting anything was doing the occasional hot knife.

Much of our booty languished, unopened and unloved in the high cupboards for years.

But then, a few years ago after we had moved into our house, and I was pregnant, I began to feel pretty domestic, and decided it was time that I had my family over for a real dinner, not just a barbeque or take out. I was going to roast something.

I sent Chris up into the high cupboards for my roasting pan. I went to the grocery store and bought a huge organic chicken. I called my mother and asked her what the hell I was supposed to do next.

Perplexed by my lack of what she considered to be Jewish and domestic common sense (the instinctual ability to roast a perfect chicken), but impressed that I was making the attempt, she instructed.

I did what she said and expected my chicken to be ready for carving in a few hours.

Everybody came over and waited for the chicken to be ready. And waited. And waited. And waited.

I could not figure out what the hell was wrong with my fine (un)feathered friend, until finally my mother came and took a look.

‘Karen?’ she asked. ‘Yes?’ I replied.

‘Why is your chicken upside-down?’

I had no idea that there was a rightside-up when roasting a chicken, but apparently, there is. And that would be the breast side, which I also was unable to identify at this early point in my cooking adventures.

Anyway, we flipped the chicken back over, and in half an hour, she was pretty much done. Of course, by then we were no longer hungry, having eaten anything else we could possibly get our paws on for the past three hours. Nevertheless, I was pleased. ‘It’s perfect!’ I exclaimed. ‘It’s adequate,’ laughed my mother.   

Undaunted, I have roasted chickens since then. I got better at it, and now want to save my fellow chicken-cookers from the embarrassment and confusion of my own early chicken-cooking days.

So climb up to the high cupboards and take down that roasting pan. We’re gonna cook us up a beauty.

Kgirl’s Adequate Roast Chicken

Prep time: not too long
Cooking time: approx. 2 hours
Feeds: 4 for dinner, then 4 more the next day if you use the leftovers in another dish

- 3lb. organic chicken
- butter or olive oil
- 3 cloves garlic
- 1/2 lemon, in slices or wedges
- sea salt
- pepper
- rosemary
- oregano
- thyme

Preheat the oven to 375. Rinse the bird and pat it dry.

Shove your hand up its bum and play chicken puppet with your kiddies. Or don’t, whatever.

Place garlic and lemon in the cavity of the birdie.

Shove little pats of butter under the skin of the chicken, or lightly brush olive oil onto the skin. This will help make your chicken nice and crispy.

Sprinkle salt generously over chicken. Follow suit with pepper and all the other herbs.

Place chicken breast up into your shiny new roasting pan.

Cook for an hour, then baste with it’s own juices and turn the heat up to 425 for 45-60 minutes more.

Chicken is done when juices in thickest part at top run clear, or a meat thermometer reads 170 degrees.

Voila! It’ll be adequate, I promise.

I like to serve this with veggies roasted during the last hour of cooking, and some sautéed greens.

*SoundBITE*
I pretty much go organic when it comes to meat, but if you can’t, at least go for a Canadian bird. By Canadian law, chickens raised for human consumption must be free range, or free run, and hormones in feed have been outlawed since the 1960s. However, they may still have been fed small levels of antibiotics, which I personally think is gross. Sorry, my American friends, but no such laws govern your birds. South of the border, I’d definitely go organic.

Comments

[nomotherearth]

I have to say that I am loving your foodie blog - you make me feel like I could actually cook. What an inspiration! I know which way to put the chicken, but what if I don't know what a roasting pan looks like - or if we have one??

Chicken puppet, heh.

[Don Mills Diva]

You cannot beat a good roast chicken - yum!

[metro mama]

You're inspiring me K-girl!

[daysgoby]

Roast chicken...just remembering that smell makes me hongry...

[crazymumma]

I just knew that you were a domestic goddess.