Roast chicken and other old friends
Here it is - the ultimate roast chicken with proper bread sauce and chicken fat potatoes.
I woke up this Saturday morning with a craving for roast chicken. You see, after weeks of nothing but sunshine and glorious (though somewhat humid) hot sultry days, the weather had begun to turn.
The lady on the weather said that the tail-end of a hurricane called Bertha was about to hit us. Ol' Bertha had brought grey clouds and a dull 'meh' feeling with her on the way.
Now, in my book absolutely nothing cheers you up and gives you a foodie cuddle quite like bread sauce. And nothing goes better with a roast chicken. Like gin and tonic, Andy Capp and Flo, bourbon and cowboy boots. They were made for each other. Friends 'til the end.
So off I wandered to my local Farmers Market (more about that here) to pick up a suitable bird. I don't always buy my chicken at Farmers Markets. I'm not that annoyingly smug, it's just that I live within a three minute stroll of one on a Saturday morning. The only other thing that close is one of those convenient for milk and emergency wine, but otherwise frustrating local shops, so off to the market it was.
If you have never made bread sauce for yourself, or only remember it as some sad wallpaper paste Granny served at Christmas, I implore you to give my recipe a go.
I also promise you that nothing tastes better smeared on one slice of a big fat leftover roast chicken sandwich. Those of a certain age will remember Monica from Friends was famous for her turkey sandwiches after Thanksgiving. What made them so good? Her moist maker. A third thin slice of bread soaked in gravy, wedged in the middle of the glorious sandwich. Because, to me as a thirty something woman, everything on Friends is practically the gospel. I have tried this and I swear it's a revelation. But as a yank Monica was missing a trick. You see they don't go much for bread sauce. But if she had, she would have realised that smearing some on that third gravy moist maker slice, would have not only made her brother so possessive of his butty as to get fired, she wouldn't have had to wait so long to convince Chandler he didn't hate Thanksgiving after all.
For the chicken itself I managed to score a beautiful free range bird that would easily serve four with leftover's for a sandwich for just under £9. Which is hard enough in a supermarket these days if you'd prefer your chook to have seen daylight. Bonus here is it also had the giblets still intact for extra gravy fabulousness.
This is a simple enough recipe, but it seems to have gone out of style.
I say bring it back. Sometimes it's good to revisit old friends.