Archives for category: Vermont

While roasting chicken is a fairly simple endeavor—at least it can be; like anything I suppose it can be made as complicated as you want—I can count on one hand how many times I’ve made it during the week. For me it’s all about the weekend, Sundays in particular. The leftovers can be used in numerous ways all week and it’s just the thing to cap off a leisurely weekend. It must run in the family because my mom also tends to make roast chicken on Sundays down in Raleigh.

This past week I was perusing Cook’s Illustrated, one of the best food publications in a very crowded market. (I’d also add a plug for the Art of Eating, Edward Behr’s quarterly from Vermont.) The website featured a dish called Weeknight Roast Chicken, and it caught my attention because, as the weather turns cooler, I turn on the oven. And I have a bit of a thing for roast chicken recipes. It’s such a simple dish yet each cook has quite a personal, specific method for how to make it just so. So when a chef I like, or in this case a magazine, shares a recipe for the dish, I pay attention, curious to see if I’ll learn any new tricks. A personal favorite is Simon Hopkinson’s from his book Roast Chicken and Other Stories.

Cook’s Illustrated never fails to disappoint. With an army of testers they publish only airtight recipes. This method calls for preheating the skillet in a 450-degree oven then turning off the heat halfway through. This makes for a nicely browned bird that retains its juices. The pre-heated skillet gives the thighs a jumpstart on cooking. The seasoning is merely salt and pepper sprinkled over the bird that has been coated with a tablespoon of olive oil. I inserted half a lemon and a half a bulb of garlic to the bird’s cavity. You don’t want to crowd the bird too much with stuffing, which slows the cooking. To the skillet I added chopped carrots, shallots, and garlic cloves, sprinkled with just a little salt and olive oil. Next time I’d add a little smoked paprika to the chicken’s skin before cooking.

I served the bird with a pear-endive-blue cheese salad, dressed with a lemon-mustard vinaigrette, and a shiitake mushroom rice pilaf.

Roast Chicken, easy enough for a weeknight, proper enough for a Sunday
Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated

Kosher salt
Black pepper
1 (3 1/2 to 4 lb) whole chicken
1 tbsp olive oil or softened butter
1/2 lemon
1/2 to 1 clove of garlic
optional: a few sprigs of rosemary or thyme

1. Adjust the oven rack to its middle position and place a 12-inch ovenproof skillet (like cast iron) on the rack. Heat the oven to 450 degrees. Clean the chicken and pat dry thoroughly with a towel. Rub the entire surface with the oil or butter. Sprinkle evenly with about 1 tbsp of salt and 1/2 tsp of pepper. Place the lemon, garlic, and herbs if using into the bird’s cavity. Tie the legs together with twine and tuck the wings behind back.

2. Transfer the chicken breast-side up to the pre-heated skillet. Careful when handling the hot skillet. Roast the chicken at 450 until the breasts are 120 degrees and the thighs 135 degrees, 25 to 35 minutes. Turn off the oven and leave the chicken in for another 25 to 35 minutes, until the breasts register 160 degrees and the thighs 175.

3. Transfer to a serving dish and let the chicken rest, uncovered, for 10 minutes if you’re starving and 20 minutes if you can stand it.

I spent my last morning in Vermont at North Branch Farm in Ripton, up the mountain from Middlebury and a few miles from Robert Frost’s log cabin. Frost moved to Vermont in 1920 to “seek a better place to farm and especially grow apples,” and stayed for the next forty years.

I’m not sure what else Frost grew besides apples. Kale? Chamomile? Elderberries? Garlic scapes? That’s some of what my friend Kate is growing at North Branch, in addition to raising pigs, chickens, ducks, and sheep. Kate and her partner Sebastian have been in business for around five years, selling their meat and sometimes produce at the local farmers’ markets as well as through online orders and local businesses.

Before leaving to head back to Brooklyn today, I made a date to have breakfast on the farm with Kate, Arianna, and her two-month-old son Rafa. Kate served us her own eggs and bacon and I brought a yummy olive and rosemary bread from Otter Creek Bakery, a Middlebury institution since 1986. (It was difficult passing up the orange almond croissants, blueberry scones, and olive pretzel twists, some of my favorites from my Middlebury days.)

After breaky we were given a tour of the farm, starting with veggies, then Pekin ducks, Cornish Cross hens, pigs, ducklings, chicks, and what Kate calls her “mowers”: two sheep, new members of the North Branch Farm who are definitely earning their keep in Ripton.

Now is that a photo of summer or what?

Yesterday’s birthday party / summer bbq / hope & jess wedding celebration part trois was a success. We all helped out in the kitchen beginning around 8 am, and were putting the finishing touches on salads when guests started arriving around 2:30. Arianna helped me with the chive gougères which came out well despite all the moisture in the air. The sour cherries we pitted for hours on Saturday went into a salsa and a fruit topping for ice cream.

Probably one of my favorite eats from yesterday was a cashew spread that filled little celery stalks. It’s a Mark Bittman special from his 101 inspired picnic dishes. This is the recipe in its entirety: “Process a cup or two of cashews, a chili or two, some garlic, a splash of soy sauce and enough water to get the food processor going; fold in chopped cilantro or chives. Fill celery sticks and chill. This is the best celery-filler since cream cheese.” I agree.

On the grill: swordfish, tuna, ribs, chicken, and two hot dogs (one for my father – “hey it’s my birthday” – the other for a 5-year-old guest). We actually had two sets of ribs, one from a family friend, the other from my brother’s friend Chris, owner and executive chef of Blackstrap BBQ in Winthrop, Mass.

There were pasta salads, potato salads, tabouleh, caprese, green salads, crab salad, green salads. Eric and Amos brought their own just-baked bread and croissants from Good Companion Bakery, a bakery and farm across the street from my parents’ house. We were sufficiently fed.