12th
Flexitarian in the Deep End: Roast Chicken

I spend a lot of time thinking about food because cooking is my hobby (and eating my main pastime). I also spend a lot of time thinking about sustainability because doing so is my job. Naturally, when it comes to the things I eat, the world of trade-offs between deliciousness, variety, and environmental soundness is familiar territory for me. So when Farmer Erin presented me with the gift of a frozen 7 lb. Shades of Green “ranging roaster” last week (available at the farm!), I was thrilled. The fact that it would be a serious understatement to say I’m a rank beginner at cooking stuff with legs made it an extra fun challenge.
It’s what one might call a “first-world problem”: whether or not to eat meat. In much of the world you eat what you can, while in modern America, our approaches to (and justifications for) what is on and off the menu tend to be fraught with personal, cultural, and regional significance. Because I have the luxury to do so, I have recently spent some time reevaluating my own protein-procurement habits. A lecture about our ravaged oceans I heard by marine biologist Sylvia Earle back in November had shaken me out of my comfortable “pescatarian” ways (vegetarian except for fish and seafood) and set me on a mission to try and eat lower on the food chain. In other words, no to big fish like tuna, yes to clams and sardines and other non-predators, and a tentative yes to humane, organic, local, well-raised chicken. A largely theoretical yes, up until yesterday.
The photos of the beautifully cooked bird turned out absolutely horrific, so I won’t disgust you with them, but it tasted fantastic! After thawing (which took 35 hours, or 5 hours per pound), the first order of business was to figure out how to remove the still-attached neck. Shades of Green birds (and many others these days) are “minimally processed,” so ridding it of its neck is up to you. This was some serious butchering work (and, in retrospect, physical comedy) for someone basically unfamiliar with, well, meat, and not in possession of a pair of poultry shears. The following is what I did once I finally got the neck off. Most non-newbies have their own tried and true method for roasting chicken, so please feel free to ignore mine!
Ingredients:
- 1 gigantic 7 lb. chicken (I was 7 lbs. when I was born, incidentally, my mom will have you know)
- kosher salt
- 1.5 lemons
- large sprigs rosemary
- five garlic cloves, unpeeled
How to:
Preheat the oven to 475 degrees. Rub the skin and cavity with about 2 tablespoons melted butter and 5 teaspoons kosher salt (1.25 teaspoons per pound of chicken). I stuck three halved lemons in the cavity with a large sprig of rosemary (more like a small shrub, really). I laid the chicken down on the rack breast up on a bed of rosemary fronds, then tucked the garlic cloves under the wings and perched them on the haunches. That last part wasn’t necessary, probably, but it looked amusing.
I used a cookie-baking cookware for this—a shallow sheet pan (1.25 inch walls) with a makeshift rack stuck inside that was in fact a cooling rack. It did the job just fine.
Roast the chicken at 475 for 20 minutes, then reduce to 400. Plan on an hour for the first 4 pounds, and 8-10 minutes each additional pound. For me, it was about an hour and 40 minutes before the brand new meat thermometer blinked green for “CHICKEN.” Remove to a platter and make sure to let your chicken rest for at least 20 minutes. You can’t carve the thing when it’s that hot anyway (uh, take it from me).
While I waited, I made a pan gravy.
Gravy ingredients:
- 1/4 cup white wine
- 3/4 cup chicken stock (I used organic packaged stock this time)
- 1 tablespoon softened butter
- 1 tablespoon flour
After removing the bird from the roasting pan, set it over two burners and, with the 1/4 white wine, deglaze it, scraping all the stuff off the bottom and simmering lightly. Remove to a saucepan, skim off any fat that rises to the top, and add chicken stock. Bring to a simmer. Make a paste of the softened butter and flour, whisk it in a little bit at a time, then cook until it’s the consistency you want. You know, gravy consistency. Our gravy was very bright due to the lemons—it was quite good, especially for a first try!