Counting his chickens after they roast
MARBLEHEAD -- In his small, tidy kitchen, with windows open to the harbor and tulips on the table, Tony Rosenfeld is roasting chicken for lunch , and the place smells pretty spectacular. It's around the 1,000th bird he has slipped into the oven in the last couple of years.
Rosenfeld, 31, is a contributing editor at Fine Cooking Magazine and a co-owner of the all-natural burger chain b. good, which has locations in Back Bay and Harvard Square, and others opening in Brookline's Coolidge Corner in June and Newbury Street in August. He has just written "150 Things to Make with Roast Chicken and 50 Ways to Roast It." "These last couple of years, I have learned more about chicken than I ever wanted to know," he says. You might think he's sick of looking at birds, much less roasting more of them, but he doesn't seem to have lost any enthusiasm for his subject.
According to Rosenfeld, not many consumers roast whole birds, which account for about 8 percent of chicken sales. "Most people are buying their chicken pre-marinated and pre-cooked," he says. "Old-fashioned cooking has been marginalized. I wonder if the day will come when you can't go into the market and buy a whole chicken at all." To encourage more people to begin with a whole bird, the first part of the book focuses on how to roast a chicken, the second on what to do with the cooked meat. Rosenfeld says, "You've had dinner, but you still have a bird and a half staring at you -- so now what?"
Now you have a host of options. But before you roast, you have to know how to choose a bird. "The differences are spectacular," says the author. "And you really notice the subtle nuances with the whole birds more than with parts." At the meat counter, the chicken expert looks for smooth skin and plump legs. He says that the more expensive birds usually do taste better, fresher and cleaner mostly. Size is important, too. "Four pounds is just right," he says. As for the packaging, he says, "Birds smothered in that thick, tight, Cryovaced plastic can get a little funky. Also, the sell-by dates on those chickens can be two to three weeks out." As far as this chef is concerned, "Basically, everything matters."
Rosenfeld cooked in restaurants and mastered many kitchen skills before he roasted his first whole chicken. "I wanted to impress people with rib roasts, turned vegetables, and perfect Hollandaise," he says. "I didn't think of roast chicken as being that kind of a showstopper." The author, who grew up in Newton, is the son of Globe contributing food writer and stylist Julie Riven. Rosenfeld has also written for the Globe. He taught Spanish for a couple of years in Rhode Island, then worked in restaurants to save money to travel to Italy and Spain. During that time, he worked as an assistant to Florence-based cooking teacher and author Giuliano Bugialli. He started writing for Fine Cooking six years ago. The Taunton Press, which published Rosenfeld's book, also publishes Fine Cooking.
So while he knew a lot about food before he began the chicken volume, it wasn't until he was on his 100th bird that he figured out all the subtleties. To taste their best, chickens need to be seasoned before they go into the oven. Usually Rosenfeld uses just salt, but sometimes he likes to rub, brine, and glaze. A brine adds moisture and flavor to poultry. The brines he prefers are made with soy sauce and ginger, cinnamon and cider, and orange with fresh rosemary. Rubs are dried spice mixtures slathered all over the bird for flavor and color. When he was growing up, Rosenfeld and his two brothers were often served an aromatic Hungarian roast chicken with sweet paprika, which was essentially a rub. Among the glazes he likes are maple-mustard and rosemary-balsamic, both of which make a sweet golden crust.
Rosenfeld insists that roasting a moist, crispy, and golden brown bird is much easier than people think it is. And, he says, there is nothing like the presentation. He figures that there are three good ways to get the job done: on a grill over a low fire, in the oven, or seared in a pan and then finished in the oven. "The thing about roast chicken is -- there isn't one perfect way," he says. "Actually, the concept of perfection irritates me. Every oven is different. Every chicken is different. There are so many variables. You have to watch. You can't turn off your brain."
To grill-roast, he first removes the backbone and flattens the chicken. With this method, you can season the whole cavity, and the breasts, legs, and thighs all receive even heat.
To oven roast you need a pan and a rack. This is Rosenfeld's favorite way. "I love the whole process," he says. "The chicken fat hits the roasting pan after 20 minutes. You can smell it; it's a rich, warming smell. Even the neighbors can smell it. Then the top of the bird starts to caramelize. Flip it and the top crackles and starts to brown. Juices pour out. That's when you get the vegetable smell. Four or five distinct smells all at once. I hate to say it but it's like a symphony. And I love to have stuff under the bird -- potatoes, fennel, shallots -- it's really a shame to miss out on that."
As all those aromas fill the kitchen, Rosenfeld pulls two chickens from the oven. The birds emerge just as handsome as promised. Underneath, potatoes and shallots are infused with sweet chicken fat. "Chicken fat is pretty magical stuff," says Rosenfeld. "Duck fat is great, but a little bit heavy. Chicken fat is light and beautiful."
For lunch, Rosenfeld chops the breasts from one bird and fans them out on top of a classic Caesar. He serves the other bird on a platter. He runs down the list of dishes that can be made with the leftover chicken, from rich comfort foods like homemade chicken pot pies to bright picnic lunches like curried chicken salad with apple and cilantro.
"Having the leftover chicken makes it that much easier to cook when you're busy," he says. "I roast the birds and then eat well all week making these sorts of leftovers." He cooks most nights for himself and fiancee Marguerite Dalicandro.
"I like casseroles like chicken cassoulet with bacon and sweet Italian sausage, or chicken posole with hominy and chilies. I love dirty rice with chicken, a good way to use the giblets. And if I really don't have time to cook I can whip up a simple spaghetti with chicken, capers, and lemon."
"What about chicken for dessert?" I ask.
"Not a chance," says the chicken man. "I had to draw the line somewhere." 