For four years, I swore by veggie burgers and delighted in tricking people with soy meat crumbles in my cooking. But one cold, bitter night in January, I came home from work determined to roast a whole chicken for my husband. I had bought it at Whole Foods and felt comforted by the fact that it was organic, local and certified humane. I thought it would be good — I just didn’t think it was going to change my life.
Roasting a Chicken
First, I tried feebly to truss the poor thing. Then I rubbed him with garlic, olive oil and herbs and placed him in the oven. I obediently browned the skin first on a higher temperature and then turned the oven down for the long haul. The chicken took about two hours in the oven, all the while wafting sinful aromas around our apartment. My heart beat a little faster every time I opened the oven door and heat hit my face. When I thought the chicken looked good and ready, and its juices were running clear, I pulled it out. Patiently, I waited for the internal juices to redistribute.
I have to tell you, this chicken looked pretty damn good for a first-timer. The skin was golden and in tact and the meat was cooked through and moist. It was in that moment that I realized I had created a work of art. It was a such shame though, looking at my serving dish, I realized that my husband wasn’t going to eat the dark meat. He was a breast guy. So, where would the rest of it go? In the garbage? My eyes widened and I started to feel panicked.
Panic in the Kitchen
Methodically, I began carving the roast. Drumsticks. Wings. Breast meat. I scooped up some of the pan juices and ladled them over the carved pieces. They were glistening. Standing alone in the kitchen, I looked up to find my husband immersed in a college football game. My heart beat faster and I picked up a drumstick to inhale the garlic and herb infused aroma. I put it down. My breathing was shallow, my palms were sweating and my was mind racing.
Before I knew it I was like an animal in the wild – tearing the meat from the bone with my teeth and devouring it. My primordial instincts urged me on as juices ran down my wrists and flavors exploded in my mouth. And then all at once, the drum stick was gone. I was overcome with a surprising feeling of heartiness and comfort. I could feel my belly expand. My very soul was glowing, as if the spirits of a thousand cooks who came before me were nodding in unison and whispering, “Yes.”
That was it. I had, in one very sharp moment, become a carnivore. While my mind struggled to keep up with the moment, one thing did became very clear. I looked down at the gnarled bone on the plate and knew that I would have to admit what I had done.
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A tip for creating roasted chicken with golden brown skin: don’t baste. Instead, consider cranking the oven up as high as it will go for 10 minutes until the chicken is golden brown. Then lower the oven temperature to 325 degrees, and rotate the roasting rack every half hour to ensure even cooking. Because the skin isn’t being constantly soaked throughout the cooking process, it will remain crispy and delicious. To ensure a most, flavorful experience, make sure you let the bird rest for at least 15 minutes so that the juices can redistribute.
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I was a vegetarian for about twenty years…then I discovered pastured meats and happily resumed meat eating.
For chicken: get a 6-qt Romertopf. Soak it half an hour, salt and pepper the chicken inside and out, stick the chicken into the Romertopf, stick the Romertopf into the cold oven, and turn it to 450. An hour to an hour and fifteen minutes later (depending on the size of the chicken, you have the most perfectly roasted, tenderest, juiciest bird you ever ate. I never roast chickens any other way.
Valereee, I will definitely have to look into getting a Romertopf, very intriguing. Where do you get your pastured meats?