Market day today. In truth it’s market day everyday in this part of France in one local town or another. But my favourite market days are Castelnau Magnoac on a Saturday morning with a stop off at the lovely Memory Bar for coffee and a ‘pain au raisin’ picked up from the boulangerie en route; and Boulogne sur Gess on a Wednesday followed by quick coffee and a swim at the fantastic outdoor pool at the ‘parc nautique’.
The weather has returned to seasonal norm with lovely long hot days, so I’m fancying a summer roast chicken for tonight. Traditionally winter fare I think roasts also work well in the summer as you can put them in the oven for an hour and get outside to enjoy the sun, the trick is to lighten the flavours with something like lemon and rosemary and serve with seasonal vegetables.
The trouble is, while I like the idea of buying all my food fresh and local from the market, when it comes to chicken you never know quite what you are going to get, and as yet my French is still too rubbish to have a long conversation about its provenance.
First there is the choice of birds; as with their beef the French are specific about not just the cut but the gender of the animal it came from. With chicken it is the gender and the differences between what they are fed, how old they are and how they have been reared. They have awards for specific criteria, and a variety of names. Do I buy a Poulet, Capon, Poulette, Coq, Volaille…? And then you find that alongside on the slab are similar looking bird’s pintade – guinea fowl, dinde – turkey etc.
I don’t mind getting it home to find it still has a neck, or even that the gizzards are packed in the cavity (the dogs love them and they are great for stock making) but sometimes from the market you open up the paper wrapping to find its still pretty much whole… the neck and head, complete with beak, are tucked neatly underneath. Now I’m not in any way squeamish and I am happy to know where my meat comes from; I am the sort of carnivore that has no problem making the direct connection between the animal/bird and the food on my plate. But there is something about a plucked chicken looking up at me that gives me pause! Perhaps it’s just too much a reminder of our laying hens, ‘the girls’, who are often in the kitchen pecking up crumbs and are pretty much part of the family.
The weather has returned to seasonal norm with lovely long hot days, so I’m fancying a summer roast chicken for tonight. Traditionally winter fare I think roasts also work well in the summer as you can put them in the oven for an hour and get outside to enjoy the sun, the trick is to lighten the flavours with something like lemon and rosemary and serve with seasonal vegetables.
The trouble is, while I like the idea of buying all my food fresh and local from the market, when it comes to chicken you never know quite what you are going to get, and as yet my French is still too rubbish to have a long conversation about its provenance.
First there is the choice of birds; as with their beef the French are specific about not just the cut but the gender of the animal it came from. With chicken it is the gender and the differences between what they are fed, how old they are and how they have been reared. They have awards for specific criteria, and a variety of names. Do I buy a Poulet, Capon, Poulette, Coq, Volaille…? And then you find that alongside on the slab are similar looking bird’s pintade – guinea fowl, dinde – turkey etc.
I don’t mind getting it home to find it still has a neck, or even that the gizzards are packed in the cavity (the dogs love them and they are great for stock making) but sometimes from the market you open up the paper wrapping to find its still pretty much whole… the neck and head, complete with beak, are tucked neatly underneath. Now I’m not in any way squeamish and I am happy to know where my meat comes from; I am the sort of carnivore that has no problem making the direct connection between the animal/bird and the food on my plate. But there is something about a plucked chicken looking up at me that gives me pause! Perhaps it’s just too much a reminder of our laying hens, ‘the girls’, who are often in the kitchen pecking up crumbs and are pretty much part of the family.
'the girls'
Jo’s Summer Roast Chicken
1 small to medium chicken - I usually get one about 3lb or 1.350kg in weight (ample for two, plus sandwiches following lunch time and some over for my favourite leftover dish, a chicken and leek risotto)
½ an unwaxed lemon cut into wedges
1 small or ½ a large onion cut into wedges
3 large juicy garlic cloves, squashed and peeled
Sprigs of rosemary
Ensure the bird is clean and dry both inside and out and stuff the cavity with the wedges of onion, and lemon (give the lemon wedges a squeeze as you put them in), the garlic cloves and sprigs of rosemary. These will give the bird flavour and help to keep the flesh moist as it roasts.
Place the bird in a roasting pan and baste with a generous amount of olive oil. Grind some black pepper over the bird and put into a pre heated oven at 180ºC, roast for 20 minutes to the 1lb / 450g. I test it after this time; baste it with the pan juices and depending on how it’s going put it back in for a further 10 or 20 minutes. It’s cooked when a skewer comes out clean and the leg separates easily from the body when tugged.
Leave the chicken to rest for 15 minutes somewhere warm before carving. For a summer roast there is no need for gravy but the juices from the bird mixed with the olive oil, lemon juice, and flavoured with the onion and rosemary during cooking are delicious. Slice some breast meat and pull off a leg to serve drizzled with a little of the pan juices.
I think the best accompaniment is some crushed or whole new potatoes and green beans or a leafy salad.
Tomorrow I’ll strip the carcass and put it in a deep saucepan along with the lemon, onion, rosemary and garlic from inside the chicken, cover with water and simmer for two hours which will make about 2 pints of delicious stock which I keep in the fridge for making sauces and risotto. It will be perfect for Chicken & Leek Risotto for supper tomorrow night.
1 comment:
You write very well.
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