Roasted chicken, to me, is an art. Yes, you can buy the store bought rotisserie chicken, but that should only be done if you require something like shredded chicken for another recipe. Roasted a chicken yourself tastes much better and it healthier. It’s a Sunday kind of meal–do your Sunday biz, then get cooking. Unless you don’t love your family, then no biggie, just order Dominos. Again.
I can’t photograph chicken but here she is….
For the chicken….
- 8 cups water
- ¼ c. salt (I only had Morton’s iodized salt in bulk, but if you have kosher, non-iodized salt, use a ½ cup
- Cloves of garlic, smashed but not minced
- 2 sprigs of rosemary
- ¼ c. sugar
- 10-15 whole peppercorns
- 2 sprigs of thyme
- 1 Chicken (4-5 lbs.)
- ½ stick light butter
- 2 lemons, halved
- 1 onion, sliced horizontally in ½ inch slices
- 5 cloves garlic, smashed, not minced
In a large stock pot, combine the first 7 ingredients, and bring to a boil. Once the water has boiled, cool down by adding in 2 cups of ice. If the brining solution isn’t totally cold by doing that, stick it in the fridge until it is very cold. While the solution is cooling, wash and dry your chicken, making sure to take out all that sick shit that sometimes is left inside the chicken’s body cavity. While I am elbow deep inside of chicken carcass, I really curse the fact that I live in Midland, and there isn’t a Whole Foods poultry person to perfectly clean and tie my chicky. And then I quickly realize that it’s 8:45 am, and I’m still in my PJ’s (Nike shorts, a loose fitting sports bra, and an 80’s tee, if you must know), and the rest of you suckers are either already at work, or on your way. Working from home has its benefits. Anyways, back to the chicken. Make sure you buy organic…it’s really gross not to. Sadly, chicken is supposed to be a super affordable meat, but when I make roasted chicken, the organic whole chicken sets me back a whopping $20…which is actually pretty pricey for a little chick. Once your brining solution has completely chilled, add in your chicken and put it in the fridge for at least 4 hours. The whole point of brining is to fill your little bird up with more liquid, so that when it cooks, the chicken doesn’t taste like shoe rubber, and is super moist. In fact, according to my meat thermometer, I overcooked my bird, but it was still really good. After your bird has brined to your liking, remove it from the brine (discard the liquid), and rinse and dry it. If you want really crispy skin, put your chicken back in the fridge for another hour and let it dry even more. While your chicken is chillaxing in the fridge, take out your butter to let it get to room temp—you are going to basically paint your chicken with butter (relax skinny-mini’s, half a stick of butter on a whole chicken isn’t that much). We are going for more of a Rachel Ray kind of meal, less like a Paula Deen.
Ok, time to prepare your little birdy. Rub butter all over the chicken, breast side up, (hehe boobs), if you are agile enough to get some underneath the skin, MAZEL, go for it. Then wash your hands. If you don’t know the general safety rules for chicken, Google them. Don’t be an idiot and try and poison your husband/family (or do, if they deserve it, who am I to judge?). Generously sprinkle salt and pepper, and whatever seasonings sound good on the chick. I suggest using a ceramic roasting pan if you have one. Honestly, I don’t know why, but the Pioneer Woman says that she does, and despite the fact that she is a ginger, I trust her. Sorry to all my gingies, but you KNOW how I feel. One in, one out. But I digress. Line your pan with the onions, and then stuff the lemon halves (I squeeze one over the bird) and the garlic in your birdies belly. Roast on 425 for 75 minutes, or until the juice of the chicken runs clear when you poke it with a fork. Let it cool before you slice it. If you want to be healthy, remove the skin. Or you can be like me, and when you make your plate, just have the chicken breast on it, no skin….your husband will think you are being skinny “But Carebear, the skin’s the best part,” when secretly, you ate it alone in the kitchen (dipped in gravy), but deny eating it and say you’re being healthy.
Please don’t eat raw chicken; I don’t know how all the liability shit goes with a blog and its idiot readers.
Gracias.
For the Gravy:
After you’ve removed the chicken, take half a cup of the drippings (aka the fat that is in the pan), and make sure you get all those delish brown bits—those are the flava. Put in a skillet over medium heat, until it simmers. Once it simmers, slowly whisk in ¼ c. of flour, making sure that you don’t have any clumps. Once it basically looks like a paste, add in 1 ½ cups of broth (chicken, veggie, anything). Whisk until it starts to thicken. At this point, I chopped up some of the onion that the chicken cooked on and added it, and it was delish. Tada, you have gravy.
