I am the only person in my house who can deal with raw poultry.
The Husband is a mighty hunter, having graced our dinner table with a number of different beasts. He also had a hand, if not solely managed, the preparation and serving of each one. He is known to go elbow deep into the cavity of a deer when necessary. He has no fear of any animal.
But he can’t deal with a chicken breast. Eh, we all have our quirks. You’d want to have me committed if I started listing all of my eccentricities. He has his reasons, though: it’s icky. Folks, I cannot argue with that.
Alas, I am the chicken preparer. I trim, prep and cook said chicken. I am most familiar with the standard chicken breast, although I’ve also dabbled in thighs and wings. I thought I could handle it all.
Then comes the day I was wandering in the grocery store and saw whole, raw chickens chilling in the meat section. Could I do it? No, I didn’t actually ask myself that question. I’m not one for much forethought on stuff like that. I picked up the bird, plopped it in my cart, and brought it home. I found this recipe from Southern Living and I was set.
Herb-Roasted Chickens
Yield: Makes 8 to 12 servings
Prep time:20 Minutes
Bake:1 Hour, 25 Minutes
Stand:15 Minutes
Ingredients
6 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup poultry seasoning
1/4 cup fresh rosemary leaves, finely chopped
1/4 cup fresh thyme leaves, finely chopped
4 teaspoons fresh minced garlic
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon pepper
2 (3- to 4-lb.) whole chickens
Preparation
1. Stir together oil and next 6 ingredients until well blended.
2. If necessary, remove giblets and neck from chickens, and reserve for another use. Rinse chickens with cold water; pat dry.
3. Loosen and lift skin from chicken breasts with fingers (do not totally detach skin). Rub 2 Tbsp. olive oil mixture evenly underneath skin of each chicken. Carefully replace skin. Rub remaining olive oil mixture over both chickens, coating evenly. Place chickens, side by side, on a lightly greased wire rack in a pan.
4. Bake at 425° for 30 minutes; cover loosely with aluminum foil, and bake 45 to 55 minutes or until a meat thermometer inserted in thickest portion of breast registers 165°. Let stand 15 minutes before slicing.
Note: Dried herbs and seasonings may be substituted for fresh. Substitute 1/2 tsp. garlic powder for minced, but use the same amounts for the other herbs and spices.
Chicken cooking day arrives. I plopped the naked bird in the sink, wrestled with the best way to cut into the wrapping, dodged the stream of chicken juice, et al, that sprayed in my general direction after cutting into said wrapping, and surveyed pre-dinner. I was suddenly at a loss as to what in the hell I was to do next. As I began to inspect the bird more closely I determined there were still little feathers stuck into its skin. Whaaa? Did I not pay enough to get the feather-free bird? I mean, they were just little stubs, but still. I plucked out the ones I could get to, rinsed the whole thing, patted it dry and put it on my pan. By the way, I’m doing all of this pretty much single handedly, literally, since I’m holding the chicken in one hand and working the faucet with the other. We don’t want any chicken cross contamination in this house. To quote the husband, that’s icky. Oh, and thank goodness the good people at Tyson decided to take out the neck and giblets for me; that could have potentially been a deal breaker.
The rest of the prep work was relatively uneventful from this point forward. I mixed the seasonings and oil together, smeared it all over the bird and tied its little feet together. The bird also had a pop-up timer to tell me when it was done, but I ended up not trusting it. I wasn’t in the mood for undercooked chicken, so I changed up the cooking times slightly: 15 minutes at 425, then an extra 70 minutes at 350, until I was absolutely sure it was cooked all the way through.
When it was done, it smelled fabulous! I tented it with foil for about 10 minutes while our sides finished up and then we cut into it. The herbs had seasoned the meat really well and the skin kept everything very moist. The herbs weren’t overpowering even though I used a lot of them. I also learned a new word – flensing. Defined as removing all of the useable chicken meat from the carcass. Related definition: something that takes an inordinate amount of time, causes back pain from hunching over the counter for up to 45 minutes, and results in maybe a pound of chicken leftovers that you will struggle to find a way to use before you just freeze it and forget about it until the next time you roast a chicken and you think to yourself, "Dang it, I still have all of that other flensed chicken in the freezer from the last time I cooked this blasted thing!" Chicken leftovers are why the Good Lord made chicken noodle soup, chicken salad and chicken sandwiches.
Edit: I must amend my earlier statement that the Husband can’t deal with raw poultry. The mighty hunter bagged a turkey recently, providing enough meat for five meals, and he just tore into that bird to get the meat. Literally. When I brought up his poultry aversion, he said, “Yeah, but I know where this bird has been,” meaning from the field to our kitchen counter, he knows exactly how it was handled and prepped. With the grocery store variety bird, he can’t guarantee that so he’s less sure of it. Makes sense.
