how to roast a chicken

When I was first learning how to cook, the only things I really wanted to know were the fool-proof way to boil rice (answer: follow the directions), the best way to cook zucchini (answer: in a vegetable basket on the grill), and how to roast an oven stuffer (answer: however my mom does it).  There is something very comforting about roasting a chicken.  I don't know what it is.  Maybe it is the aroma that fills my apartment, maybe it's the fact that I will have enough leftovers for a week, or maybe it just reminds me of home.  But my mom's roasted chicken is so good, and I didn't think I could improve upon it until I began testing the other roast chicken methods out there.

In five years, I've roasted more chickens than I can count.  A few dozen, at least - far surpassing what could be considered normal for someone who is not feeding a family of four.  Depending on what sort of liberties I take with the process, it turns out slightly differently each time, but it's always good.  The most famous ways of roasting chicken have cult followings, each touted as the "best roasted chicken on Earth".  After a bit of experimenting, I've nailed down my preferred way of roasting chicken.  It's a hybridized version of Thomas Keller's method and the Zuni Cafe recipe.  My friends tease me and call this recipe "date-night chicken"* because yes, I've made this chicken for every guy I've ever dated.  I know.  I get the irony.  I am trying to get you to believe in the magic of this chicken, and my singledom isn't exactly a ringing endorsement.  Minor details, people.

The secret to this chicken is to buy a high-quality, small-to-medium sized bird (resist the temptation of an oven-stuffer) and make sure it is entirely dry before you place it in a scorching hot oven.  Roast it for a while on high heat, flip it over, and turn the heat down a bit.  The initial high heat creates a golden-brown skin, perfectly crisp and a stark contrast to the juicy, tender meat.  Flipping the bird over halfway through cooking ensures that the breast meat doesn't dry out - in fact, the juices from the leg will drip down onto the breast and keep it moist.  (Sorry, I hate that word, but there's really no other way to explain it.)  And let me reiterate that it is important for the chicken to be completely dry when placed in the oven.  Any moisture will cause the bird to steam, and that is exactly what we do not want.  You'll end up with a soggy bird, and worse, a kitchen full of smoke and a date furiously waving a dishrag under the blaring smoke alarm.  Um, not that I would know or anything.

After you roast your chicken, let it rest, and carve it up.  Now, I have no idea how to effectively butcher a bird, nor do I pretend to.  So I tell my date it's not my strong suit, and I ask him to do it for me.  It's truly a rare moment for me - confessing my ineptitude like this.  But the payoff for a bit of vulnerability is huge - the way a guy carves a bird can tell you a lot about him.  Does he handle with care, efficiency, and meticulousness, or does he leave the poor bird recklessly manhandled and massacred?  (Yes, I judge my men based on, among other things, their knife skills.  Anybody know any single surgeons?)  If you are lucky enough to have an efficient butcher, this recipe easily serves two with lots of leftovers, or four with some leftovers still.    And if you're blessed with lots of leftovers, the possibilities for the remains are endless - chicken salad, chicken soup, chicken sandwiches, chicken tacos.  Oh, and because I let nothing go to waste, sometimes I even use the bones and carcass for stock when all the meat is gone.

Before you read the directions in their entirety, I must acknowledge that this recipe is slightly dramatic.  (Me?  Dramatic?  Never.)   And if you usually just read this blog not for the recipes, but to laugh at how awkward I am, you might actually enjoy reading this one.  I do acknowledge that I've editorialized it quite a bit, but The Zuni Cafe cookbook devotes four pages to it, so I've actually pared it back substantially.  And I'm telling you - this chicken is amazing, and anybody with functioning taste buds will say the same.  It is slightly fussy for a roasted chicken, so don't waste it on somebody who would be just as happy eating DiGiorno's every night.  But that kind of guy is probably not good with a knife, nor would he (hypothetically) flail his arms like a fool under your smoke detector, so you probably wouldn't want to date him anyway.  At least, I wouldn't.

Perfect Roasted Chicken
Adapted mostly from The Zuni Cafe Cookbook and a little bit from Thomas Keller
Serves 2 to 4, with leftovers

One small chicken, no more than four pounds
Several sprigs of fresh rosemary, thyme, and sage
1 tablespoon salt
freshly cracked black pepper
kitchen twine (optional)


1.  Season the chicken:  The recipe says 1-3 days before serving is "ideal", with bigger birds taking longer, but I usually don't have a problem doing it the day of.  You want to do it at least 4-6 hours in advance so the chicken has a chance to dry out with the dry salt brine

Remove and discard the package of gizzards/liver inside the cavity of the chicken. Rinse the chicken and pat dry inside and out. Be very thorough — a wet chicken will spend too much time steaming before it begins to turn golden brown.  Approaching from the edge of the cavity, slide your finger under the skin of each breast and loosen a little.  Do the same on the outside of the thickest section of each thigh, or the area where the thigh meets the body (is this the hip?)  Shove a couple herb sprigs into each of the pockets you've made.  You want 4-6 total pockets.  Season the chicken very liberally with salt and pepper.  Like, I want you to make it rain salt.  Massage the salt into the skin very well, especially in the thicker sections like the breast and thighs.  (Insert obligatory "that's what she said".)  You probably will think you're using too much.  That is good.  You don't end up tasting the salt, it is just what ends up giving the skin that crispy texture.  Salt a little on the inside of the chicken and stuff some more sprigs of herbs in there.  Cover loosely and refrigerate.

2.  Prepare your oven and pan (not optional), and truss your chicken (optional):  Remove the chicken from the refrigerator and preheat the oven to 475.  (That is not a typo. 475.  My mom almost had a heart attack when I told her that I roast my chicken this high.)  Using a shallow flameproof roasting pan or 12-inch cast iron skillet (that's what I use), preheat the pan in the oven.

At this point, you can truss the chicken if you want; this is the Thomas Keller influence.  Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't.  It usually depends on whether I have any kitchen twine and how badly I want to impress whoever I am dining with.  (If any of my ex-boyfriends are reading this, which I kind of doubt, they are probably trying to remember whether or not they had to untie the bird before cutting it up.)  In any case, trussing is not that difficult once you get the hang of it, and if you roast chicken often, it's a good technique to have in your repertoire. When you truss a bird, the wings and legs stay close to the body and the ends of the drumsticks cover the top of the breast and keep it from drying out. Trussing helps the chicken to cook evenly and also gives it a nice overall color, almost the color of caramel.  To truss, start by cutting a 3-foot section of cotton kitchen string. Place the chicken so that it is breast side up, with its legs pointing toward you. Tuck the wing tips under the chicken. Wrap the string under the neck end of the bird, pulling the string ends up over the breast, toward you, plumping up the breast.  (Yeah, if you're a girl, this is exactly analogous to what you're thinking.)  Then cross the string under the breast, above the cavity and between the legs.  Wrap each end around the closest leg end, and tie tightly so that the legs come together.  There are several YouTubes out there on trussing.  Check 'em out.

When the oven is ready, remove the pan (with a hot pad!) and place the chicken breast side up in the pan.  You should hear the chicken sizzle. 

3.  Roast the chicken:  Place the chicken in the pan in the center of the oven and listen and watch for it to start browning within 20 minutes.  The skin should blister, but it should not char or smoke.  If it does, reduce temperature to 450.  After about 30 minutes, turn the bird over.  This is the real test to see if you thoroughly dried your bird.  A dry bird and preheated pan should keep the skin from sticking. Turn the temperature down to 425.  Roast for another 15 to 20 minutes, depending on size, then flip back over to get the breast skin all nice and crispy, another 5 to 10 minutes.  Your chicken is finished when the meat thermometer says so, or when the juices from the leg run clear and the wing tips are kinda burnt. 

4.  Rest the chicken:  Let the chicken rest at least 10 minutes before cutting and serving.

*Not to be confused with Glamour magazine's "Engagement Chicken".  My version is way better.