If you hadn't heard, DC was being punished for its sins this last week. Earthquakes, flooding, hurricanes -- all pretty mild, actually, at least here in Washington. I guess our sins can't be that bad.
During the worst of the hurricane on Saturday night, I didn't even lose power -- so obviously I decided to roast a mid-hurricane chicken.
I used a four pound chicken I'd thawed over two days in the fridge. I started by spatchcocking the bird (butterflying; for more here's my post: "Spatchcocked Chicken...heehee") and arranging it skin side up on a foil-covered tray. Then, I melted about two tablespoons of butter and painted the skin before massaging thyme, sage, and salt and pepper in as well. I cut four sprigs off my poor, sad rosemary plant and tucked them under joints, and finished preparing the chicken by arranging wheel of sliced lemon on top.
Here's the effect:
 |
| The chicken is surrounded by carrots and sweet potatoes tossed with olive oil and thyme. |
I roasted at 400 degrees for an hour -- all the while praying the power would stay on. I suppose I could have stood outside in the hurricane (ok, "rainy, kinda windy weather") and finished the chicken on my
trusty rusty not so-trusty grill. But that didn't appeal, so my supplications to the storm god continued.
Digression: from a close contextual study of the Torah and Old Testament, it turns out that the God of the Jewish Bible closely resembles the "storm god of the mountain" trope we see in parallel cultures at the time, approximately 3300 years ago, throughout the Levant/Fertile Crescent region. So, my praying the "storm god" might NOT be considered blasphemy.
The chicken came out beautifully. The butter and herb skin lent itself to a perfectly crispy crust while the short cooking time enabled by the spatchcocking method kept the meat nice and tender. The lemon really permeated the chicken throughout, and the root veggies on the side had simmered in the run-off juices long enough to be perfectly delectable (if a little thyme-y. I'll explain in a moment).
I call it "Lemon Chicken a l'Irene":
 |
| DEFINITELY too much thyme on those 'taters. |
So I had the rare problem of having far too much thyme (ouch...that pun even hurt me). Basically, I was set to sprinkle about a tablespoon of dried thyme on my veggies and so I started shaking my spice container vigorously over the bag...to discover I didn't have a shaker lid on the jar. Whoops. I ended up with about a half cup of thyme. I do, indeed, screw up.
UPDATED: With improved pseudo-French via my friend Le.
Print Article 
Reader Comments