In the Aunt’s Recipe Book, there are two entries for Roast Chicken, one from Aunt Em and one from Aunt Prissy. Aunt Emily’s says, “Mine’s better than Prissy’s so make this one.” Aunt Prissy’s says, “Mine is much, much better than Emily’s so do use my recipe.” What’s a girl to do? When I first started cooking after I got married, I was not too fond of the idea of a whole chicken. The first time I bought one, armed with my two competing recipes, I removed the plastic packaging and sat the naked bird in the sink. I obediently followed the aunts’ instructions: “Wash chicken inside and out. Pat dry.” There was just one problem: all this gross stuff came out of the bird when I ran the water through his cavity, and I had the water on too high, so chicken juice splattered all over my face. When I set him down, it looked like he was standing in my sink looking at me. It was all too much for my delicate constitution at the time–I burst into tears and threw the bird away. I’m much braver now, but if a whole chicken intimidates you, don’t worry, you aren’t the only one.
If you can conquer your fears the first time, cooking a whole chicken is an easy way to kill two meals with one bird (pardon the pun!) The tender, roast breast meat is delicious with a bit of the pan drippings drizzled over it; I like to pair it with rice and a vegetable. These roasted carrots are crispy on the outside and sweet and soft on the inside, and the subtle flavors of the rice pilaf complement the chicken nicely without overpowering it. Once you get the chicken prepared, the rest of the meal comes together pretty quickly, but make sure the bird is good and defrosted–a frozen chicken takes a long, long time to cook all the way through, which I know from the last time we had dinner at about 10:00.
My Roast Chicken (a combination of the aunts’ techniques)
1 whole chicken
2 lemons
2 cloves of garlic
Several sprigs rosemary
Olive oil
Lemon pepper
Kosher salt
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Remove the innards and neck from the chicken. Gross, I know, but just reach in there and pull them out. Like pulling off a Band-aid, the quicker you do it, the less it hurts. Wash the chicken inside and out and pat dry with paper towels. Place the bird in a roasting pan, and coat with olive oil, rubbing the oil into the skin. Pierce one lemon several times with a knife and place it, along with the garlic cloves, inside the cavity. Slice the other lemon thinly. Place the lemon slices and rosemary sprigs under the skin on top of the breasts–you might have to use a knife to separate the skin from the meat. Season the whole bird with salt and lemon pepper. Roast, breast side up, for between an hour and an hour and a half. The chicken is done when its temperature reaches 180 degrees, or when the juices run clear. Baste occasionally with the pan juices.
While the chicken is cooking, you can prepare the carrots and rice. For the carrots, I buy the package of baby carrots, and place them on a cookie sheet, whole. Toss with lots of olive oil, Kosher salt, and cracked pepper. Roast in the oven with the chicken for about 45 minutes to an hour. The carrots’ skins should shrivel and begin to crust around the edges. Then, you can take your time with the rice pilaf. I learned the technique from Sara Foster’s Rice Pilaf for All Seasons in Fresh Everyday; this one is my variation.
Minted Orange Rice Pilaf with Pine Nuts
1 T. butter
1 T. olive oil
1 yellow onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic
1 cup pine nuts
Zest of two oranges
1 1/2 cups jasmine rice
1 cup orange juice
1 cup coconut milk
1/2 cup chicken broth or water
Kosher salt and cracked pepper
1 cup coarsely chopped mint leaves
Heat the butter and oil in a large skillet or saucepan. Sauté the onion and garlic until both are soft but not brown. Add the pine nuts and half the orange zest and cook until nuts are fragrant, 3-5 minutes. Add the rice, and cook while stirring for another 3-5 minutes, or until the rice is coated with the butter and oil, sliding around the pan easily. Add the liquids, and salt and pepper well. Bring the mixture to a boil; then, reduce the heat so that it’s simmering. Cover and cook for about 20 minutes, until the liquid has been absorbed. Stir in half of the mint leaves. To serve, top each serving with reserved orange zest and mint leaves.
After dinner, debone the chicken and reserve the leftover meat. Even better, talk your husband into doing it (the best, of course, is if he offers, like mine does. Thanks David!) You can use it for all kinds of things…like the pizza tomorrow!
