Poulet roti, “That’s roast chicken numbnuts!”
Les Halles, p. 181
On page 181 of the Les Halles cookbook, Bourdain eschews, at length, his laundry list of gripes and concerns with both the cooking technique and (subsequent) reputation of one of the most far-reaching mains ever cooked, roast chicken. To sum it up, as per, the concerns deal mostly with overcooking and (over) acceptance of sub par prepared food. The dry, crispy skin, no moisture (but no pink! weee!) versions many consider just fine and dandy.
Bourdain sets the stakes high for this one, “…if you can’t properly roast a damn chicken then you are one helpless, hopeless, sorry-ass bivalve in an apron. Take that apron off, wrap it around your neck, and hang yourself. You do not deserve to wear the proud garment of generations of hardworking, dedicated cooks. Turn in those clogs, too.” Ouch. But, as most of us have experienced it is sometimes the simplest of dishes, those that demonstrate the most basic of culinary technique that are so easy to completely and utterly quaff on.
After an entire page dedicated to this cause, I was determined like I’ve rarely been to get this bird from oven to plate with juices in tack (and pink! In the right places…). After a beautiful yogic (is that a word?) leg trussing courtesy of Mary, the bird, full of herbs, an onion and lemon, was ready for the oven.
To truss the bird Bourdain instructs bypassing the popular kitchen twine method for the pretty-when-raw-but-falls-apart-when-cooked crossing the drumsticks and poking one through the skin of the thigh. “Lie on your back on the floor, put your knees together, and draw them both up to your chest with your arms. Press them against your chest. You should look pretty funny down there- but that’s exactly the point position I want you to put your chicken in. Knees up, ass out,” Bourdain instructs.
After the nip tuck we took our herb butter- made from our fine selection of herbs I am proud to say that I am not killing, but growing- and inserted under the skin.
“Is that it?” I ask Kevin.
“No. You have to salt the skin and rub it with butter.”
“The herb butter?”
“No.” Kevin replies.” The softened butter, but I don’t think it is that softened.”
“How the hell am I supposed to so that?” I shoot back, fingers coated with fat, rubbing all the salt and pepper off the bird with a grotesque hunk of butter. Freekin’ Bourdain.
This is when I quit and let Kevin take over
I opted to cook the chicken on the third rack for the first stage of cooking (375* for 30) and the fourth for the second stage (450* for 25) in order to give a decently brown (but never crispy Mr. Bourdain! not to worry) exterior. The end result was a basically brainless, moist and very tasty bird that I feel confident that I or anyone with any inkling of ability should be able to pull off time and time again. Except for that trussing, I’ll leave those to Mary and buy some more twine…
I can safely say that I am not, at least in this particular instance, ” [a] helpless, hopeless, sorry-ass bivalve in an apron.” Wonderful.
Personally I think you’re more of a univalve.
Recipe ease: 8 trussing and buttering is for the birds
Time: 10 pretty quick for a whole roasted bird, prep to table in less than 2.5 hours
Make again: 9
