The range of birds raised sustainably by farmers includes chicken, duck, goose, pheasant, turkey, and guinea fowl. All such poultry is full of flavor, has real texture, and is vastly different from its industrial counterpart, even when the bird in question is exactly the same breed. It’s a real demonstration of the difference that true free-ranging offers.
What is “false” free-ranging, then? It’s when the birds have theoretical access to a small patch of green, but never actually go there, or are allowed outdoor time for only brief portions of a day. Quite a number of supermarket and specialty store chickens labeled organic fall into this category, and they are the birds I refer to as “reasonable-quality birds.” They are fed organic grain, sometimes supplemented with organic greens. They are both tastier and more sustainable than industrial birds, who are fed appalling substances and live under much more inhumane conditions, but they do not have the flavor of real free-ranged or pastured chickens, nor do they generally cost as much. I may buy these reasonable-quality birds whole to brine, or in parts like leg-and-thigh combinations to use for braises. True pasture-raised chickens are the ones I cook reverently as whole roasts, saving their bones for rich stock.
Note that pasture raised can mean that the birds walk around the farm freely during the day and are cooped at night to protect them from predators. It can mean that they are “day ranged”—that is, kept in portable “chicken tractors” that allow them to always be on grass but to be moved daily from one part of a pasture to another while remaining inside the pen. They may be in “eggmobiles” that allow them out into various fenced portions of a pasture by day. They can be cooped at night but allowed to spend their days in an outdoor fenced chicken run. The main factor in all of these examples is that the birds have regular and prolonged contact with dirt, green growing things, and insects for most daylight hours. If you visit a farm with pastured chickens, you’ll hear contented clucking and see visibly happy birds, busily exploring every blade of grass.
These days in Vermont and some other states, farmers are allowed to bypass USDA processors to slaughter and sell a limited number of uninspected birds from the farm. (In Vermont, the regulation allows up to 1,000 birds per year, labeled as farm raised and uninspected, and sold from the farm to retail customers and chefs.) Such birds profit from the fact that they have not been transported or stressed prior to processing. Look for these superb birds at farmers’ markets, where they are sold fresh or frozen. (If you buy a fresh one, give it a day or two in the coldest part of the refrigerator before you cook it, as these birds need to “relax” before they are good eating.)
When you encounter a poultry seller at a farmers’ market or farm store, here are some of the questions to ask:
Are the birds pastured?
If so, how much of the time?
What else do you feed them?
Are the grains organic or local or grown by you?
How are the birds processed—on the farm or in a USDA facility?
Even though pastured chickens are processed at a very young age (just like industrial birds), and even though they are usually exactly the same breed of meat bird, their flesh has much more texture and a fine deep flavor.
Even when a bird is whole, it has some additional parts. While most birds bought at retail come without heads or feet, their necks are often included even though they are no longer attached to the body. Similarly, some of the offal—the gizzards, liver, heart—are also routinely included in packages inside the bird. Traditionally, the neck is reserved for stock-making, while the liver, gizzards, and heart can be used in stuffing.
When buying pastured birds, while you may get all of the above parts, you can’t count on it. It pays to ask what is included with a bird you buy directly from the farmer, and to let him know if there are other parts you want. It’s not easy, for example, to get a pound or two of chicken livers from pastured birds unless you’ve either special-ordered them or participated in the processing. The same goes for gizzards, hearts, feet, and necks, so if you are interested in cooking all of your bird, you’ll have to let your producer know.
When cutting up a raw bird at home to use as parts, the usual pattern is to cut it into eight pieces, as follows: Each leg and thigh quarter is cut from the body in one piece, and then the drumstick is removed from the thigh at the joint. Then the backbone is removed, cutting through each side of the spine to free it. The breast portion is divided into two, cutting through the breastbone, and then the wings are removed.
POULTRY ANATOMY
(GUINEA FOWL)
When carving a whole cooked bird, particularly a large one like a roasting chicken or turkey, the pattern is somewhat different because you usually want to slice the breast meat rather than serve it as a large part. In this case, start by removing the legs and thighs, cutting them first as one, and then dividing them into each part. Arrange them on a serving platter, then remove the wings and add them to the platter. Slice the white meat on either side of the breastbone, allowing the knife to follow the curve of the body to create even slices. The back can be cut into two pieces, or it can remain in the kitchen to use for stock, along with the neck.
When you have paid twenty-five dollars or more for a whole chicken, and bought it from the person who raised it, you want to make that bird the best it can be by using appropriate cooking techniques. You can salt or brine the bird overnight, marinate it in spices and oil, slow-cook it to melting tenderness, or simply roast the whole bird while paying close attention to its internal temperature. Brining or pre-salting always adds succulence, but is perhaps less essential with pastured birds than with supermarket organic birds.
If you can buy sustainably raised chicken in parts or cut one up yourself, the meat will make one of the most memorable chicken braises you will ever taste. And if you are lucky enough to come across a stewing hen (usually older birds that are no longer laying eggs), snap it up and make any of those braises again (only cook it for much longer—up to 5 hours) to discover a depth of chicken flavor you’ve probably never had the chance to experience before. My source of “old hens” is a local organic egg farm—they process the old girls when they stop laying regularly, and they always have a good supply of old hens in the freezer of the farm store. There may be similar sources local to you.
Capons are castrated roosters, and they used to be commonly available, but they are hard to find now. They are worth seeking out because fixing the birds makes them gain weight—they average about 10 pounds a bird, which is perfect for entertaining or festive events. These days, the only national source I know of for organic free-range capon is D’Artagnan, which is also the source for poussin, or baby chickens. These weigh about a pound and a quarter, and are a tender delicacy. If you find a local producer who is raising chickens for meat, you can ask if they offer capon or poussin, and encourage them to consider this if they haven’t done so already.
Chicken fat is a time-honored cooking medium now fallen out of favor, but worth paying attention to nonetheless. Like many animal fats, it’s not as bad for you as you may think. A tablespoon of rendered chicken fat has 120 calories, of which 117 are from fat. This fat is about 30 percent saturated, with about 10 mg of cholesterol; it includes palmitoleic acid, an antimicrobial, and its relatively small amounts of omega-3 and omega-6 are in a good ratio, if the chickens were raised pastured. I use pastured chicken fat for cooking potatoes, and I leave a little of it in the chicken stock I make.
Goose fat is culinary gold, lending its flavor to potatoes, red cabbage, and confits of all kinds. It has a smoking point of 375 degrees, so it’s good for frying. It is lower in saturated fat than butter or lard, and is “heart healthy” because it’s high in monounsaturated fat and rich in the kind of oleic acid that appears to lower cholesterol. Sealed in an airtight, sterile glass container (such as a screw-top jar that has just gone through the high-temperature cycle of the dishwasher or that has been boiled in a kettle of water), rendered goose fat will keep for several months in the refrigerator, and it can be frozen for even longer.
Traditionally, there are two kinds of goose fat: “white” fat, which is rendered slowly on top of the stove from skin and lumps of fat removed prior to cooking the bird; and “brown” fat, which is what is poured out of the roasting pan as a goose cooks (see this page). In reality, the color of the two can be fairly similar, ranging from snow to cream.
I think the distinction has more to do with ease and flavor—it’s much easier to pour off fat as you cook a bird than it is to pull it off a raw bird and render it slowly. But the fat that comes off a cooking bird, while plentiful, has a meaty flavor and so may be less suitable for pastry. It is, however, quite wonderful for basting meat, cooking potatoes, making savory tarts, and other nondessert uses.
Duck fat contains about 35 percent saturated fat and 45 to 50 percent monounsaturated fat (which are high in linoleic acid), and nearly 14 percent polyunsaturated fats (which is where the omega-6 and omega-3 essential oils are). Duck fat has even more linoleic acid than goose fat. Like goose fat, it can last, rendered and stored in a sterile jar in the refrigerator for months at a time. Dr. Serge Renaud, director of research at France’s National Institute of Health and Medical Research, and the originator of the term “the French paradox” was quoted in the New York Times on November 17, 1991, suggesting that goose and duck fat may improve cardiovascular health. He says (and chemists agree) that “goose and duck fat are closer in chemical composition to olive oil than to butter and lard.” From frying to roasting, whether used for cooking meat or vegetables, duck fat makes food taste wonderful.
Our homemade portable chicken tractor
The only tricky thing about this recipe is pitting the olives—either use a small knife to slice away the flesh from the pit or flatten them with the side of a large knife and watch the pits pop out. If you really object to pitting, this dish can be made with unpitted olives—just warn your guests so that they eat carefully.
SERVES 4 TO 6
4 skin-on pastured chicken leg-and-thigh combinations
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 large onions, thinly sliced
2 cups white wine
1 cup canned fire-roasted whole tomatoes, with their juices
1 cup good aged black olives, pitted
3 tablespoons Herbes de Provence Blend (see this page)
Blot the chicken and salt and pepper it. Heat a wide, shallow frying pan with a lid or an enameled cast-iron Dutch oven over medium-high heat and add 2 tablespoons of the oil. When the oil is thin and fragrant, brown the chicken pieces on both sides well, 7 to 10 minutes in all. Transfer the chicken to a plate to rest.
Pour off the accumulated fat, add the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil, and reduce the heat to medium-low. Slowly sweat the onions until they are wilted and translucent, but not browned, 3 to 4 minutes. Add the wine and deglaze the pan, stirring and scraping with a wooden spoon to incorporate any browned bits into the liquid. Add the tomatoes and their juices, the olives, and herbs. Return the browned chicken to the pan, cover, and lower the heat to a slow simmer. Cook for about 1 hour, or until the chicken is falling off the bones.
Serve warm.
When made with four bone-in chicken thighs, this darkly delicious mahogany-colored dish cooks in 30 to 40 minutes in an enameled cast-iron Dutch oven, but it is even better when it is made a few days ahead and left to mellow in the refrigerator. In other words, this is a great dish to make on a weekend for dining on later in the week. Serve it with a robust starch such as quinoa to sop up the juices. Note that a paper coffee filter and a filter holder will be useful when draining the rehydrated mushrooms, and a fat-separating pitcher will improve the sauce.
SERVES 2 TO 4
4 skin-on, bone-in pastured chicken thighs
¼ cup dried porcini mushrooms
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
3 bay leaves
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
About 1 cup red wine
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Blot the chicken dry with a paper towel on both sides and leave the pieces on a bed of folded paper towels to air-dry a little more at room temperature while you proceed.
Soak the dried mushrooms in a small bowl with enough very hot water to cover by 1 inch.
Melt the butter in a cast-iron frying pan and turn the heat to medium, adding the bay leaves and rosemary. Give the herbs a swirl in the butter and let them stew gently for a few minutes to perfume the fat.
Put the chicken, skin side down, into the hot butter, and brown it over medium-high heat. When they no longer stick to the pan, turn the pieces to brown on the other side.
Remove the rehydrated mushrooms from the soaking liquid, squeezing them to remove extra moisture, and set them aside. Place a paper coffee filter in a holder, and pour the mushroom liquid through it to remove any dirt. Pour this clarified liquid into a large measuring cup. Add enough red wine to make the total liquid 1½ cups.
When the chicken is darkly golden, pour in the wine-and-mushroom-liquid mixture and deglaze the pan, stirring with a wooden spoon to incorporate any browned bits into the sauce. Add the reserved mushrooms, as well as salt and pepper to taste. Cook, uncovered, over medium-low heat (the liquid should simmer slowly) turning the meat occasionally for about 30 minutes, or until the meat is falling off the bones. Remove and discard the bay leaves.
Serve with the pan sauce (which may be poured through a fat separator first).
Adapted from Nancy Harmon Jenkins’s Cucina del Sole, this is another winter dinner favorite that comes together with pantry ingredients (if your pantry runs to salt-packed capers). It improves over time, so making this dish a day ahead is a benefit, although not essential.
SERVES 2 TO 4
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 onion, thinly sliced
4 skin-on, bone-in pastured chicken thighs
3 tablespoons white wine or champagne vinegar
⅓ cup salt-packed capers, well rinsed
¼ cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Heat an enameled cast-iron Dutch oven or other 3-quart braising pan over medium heat, and when it is hot, add 1 tablespoon of the olive oil to the pan. When the oil is thin and fragrant, sweat the onion slices until soft, but not colored. Remove them from the pan and add the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil. Brown the chicken pieces by adding them, skin side down, to the hot pan. When one side no longer sticks to the pan, turn the chicken and brown the other side. Remove the browned pieces from the pan.
Pour off the accumulated chicken fat. Put the vinegar in a measuring cup and add enough water to make 1 cup of liquid. Pour this into the hot pan and deglaze with a wooden spatula, scraping the pan to incorporate the browned bits into the sauce. Add the capers and parsley. Return the chicken to the pan, along with a little salt and pepper to taste. Cover the pan and cook for 1 hour, either at a slow simmer on top of the stove or in a 350-degree oven. The chicken should be falling off the bones. Taste for salt and adjust.
Serve warm.
We’ve been making this curry for nearly fifteen years in our household, ever since I took a Thai cooking class. Over time, this fast curry has become a weeknight staple for its speedy delivery of spicy comfort. You can find small bottles of fish sauce and Thai green curry paste (and red and yellow) in most grocery store ethnic aisles. Each color has a different flavor. You can start cooking the rice when you begin making the curry—they’ll finish about the same time.
SERVES 4
4 boneless, skinless pastured chicken thighs
1 (14-ounce) can whole coconut milk, preferably organic
1 heaping teaspoon Thai green curry paste, or more to taste
1 tablespoon Thai fish sauce
2 tablespoons light brown sugar
½ cup water
1½ cups any one of the following vegetables:
frozen green peas
zucchini or winter squash, finely diced
green beans, trimmed and cut into 1-inch lengths
eggplant, finely diced
For serving:
Steamed jasmine rice or Coconut Rice (see this page)
¼ cup chopped fresh cilantro, for garnish
Bring the chicken to room temperature, blot it, and cut the meat into 2-inch pieces.
Heat a heavy enameled cast-iron casserole or other heavy saucepan gently over low heat. Open the can of coconut milk, spoon out the thick cream on top, and melt it in the pan over low heat until it just begins to bubble at the edges. Stir in the curry paste with a wooden spoon. Simmer the mixture for about 3 minutes.
Add the chicken pieces and turn them in the paste, then pour in the thin coconut milk remaining in the can, taking care to scrape the can clean with a rubber spatula. Add the fish sauce, brown sugar, and water. Add the vegetable of your choice.
Cover the pan and simmer the stew over medium-low heat for 15 to 20 minutes, until both the chicken and the vegetable(s) are cooked through. Serve in bowls over rice, sprinkled with the chopped cilantro.
Adapted from a recipe by Greg Malouf in Artichoke to Za’atar, this dish roasts to a crisp at high heat. While it cooks, the perfume of cardamom and garlic infuses the kitchen. You can find green cardamom pods at any good spice purveyor and (far less expensively) at Indian and Middle Eastern groceries. Please don’t use ground cardamom—you need the crunch of the tiny seeds, which are much more intensely flavored. Similarly, if you can get intensely flavored wild Greek oregano (found hanging upside down in bunches in some Greek markets), use it here. Be sure to leave time for the marinating—at least 4 hours. If you like, make a batch of rice to saok up fragrant juices.
SERVES 4
¼ cup whole green cardamom pods or 1 to 2 tablespoons whole black cardamom seeds out of the pods
2 cloves garlic
1 tablespoon kosher salt
¼ cup fresh or dry oregano
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons olive oil
4 to 6 large skin-on, bone-in pastured chicken thighs
Freshly ground black pepper
Select a shallow pan that will hold the thighs closely in one layer, such as a quarter sheet pan, cast-iron lasagna pan or frying pan, or gratin dish.
Using a mortar and pestle, or a heavy resealable plastic bag and the back of a cast-iron frying pan, pound the cardamom pods until they split. Discard the husks, and bruise the tiny black seeds by pounding them a little to release their oils. Add the garlic, salt, and oregano, and bash away a bit more to make a rough paste. Transfer the mixture to a bowl, then stir in the olive oil to thin the paste.
Arrange the thighs, flesh side up, in the pan and massage half the paste onto the flesh; turn them over and do the same on the skin side with the remaining paste. Allow the meat to marinate, covered and refrigerated, for at least 4 hours or overnight before bringing it back to room temperature. Grind black pepper over the thighs.
Heat the oven to 450 degrees, and set a rack at the top of the oven, just under the heating element (although you are not broiling, this exposes the skin to more heat for crispness). When the oven is good and hot, roast the chicken for 45 minutes, turning the meat over halfway through the cooking.
When done, the skin should be beautifully crisp and the flesh completely cooked through. Pour off the fat in the pan and arrange the pieces on a serving platter. Serve warm or at room temperature with rice.
BRAISING WHOLE BIRDS: Since pastured birds can be chewy, moist slow cooking is a wonderful way to showcase their flavor while tenderizing their flesh.
A Römertopf is an unglazed clay pot made for braising meats, fish, or vegetables without added fat. The pot is immersed in cold water for 10 minutes, drained, then filled with the ingredients and placed in a cold oven that is then brought to temperature (this is important, to avoid cracking the clay of the pot). The dish cooks without any further attention until done, and tastes like you’ve slaved over the stove for hours!
SERVES 4 TO 6
1 (3-pound) pastured chicken
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 lemons, rinsed and thinly sliced
1 teaspoon sweet (dulce) pimentón de la Vera (smoked Spanish paprika) or other smoked paprika
1 teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup beer
1 tablespoon maple syrup or honey
Rinse the chicken inside and out with cool water. Blot all the surfaces well with paper towels, salt and pepper the interior, and set it aside. Immerse the Römertopf for 15 minutes in cold water in the sink.
Empty the Römertopf of water, and line the bottom with some of the lemon slices. Put the remaining slices inside the chicken. Blend the spices and ½ teaspoon salt and sift them over the bird. Place the chicken in the pot, breast side down. Add the beer, pouring it down the side of the pot.
Cover the Römertopf and set it in the cold oven. Turn the heat to 480 degrees and cook for 2 hours. At that point, using tongs, turn the bird over, and pour the maple syrup over the breast, spreading it with a brush or the back of a spoon. Return the pot to the oven, uncovered, for an additional 10 minutes to brown and crisp the chicken.
Remove the bird from the pot with tongs and let it rest. Transfer the juices into a saucepan (the Römertopf can’t take direct stovetop heat) and reduce them over high heat to a thick and concentrated sauce.
Cut up the chicken, arrange it on a platter or individual plates, and serve it with the sauce.
As you can see from the French name, this richly colored dish was originally devised for cooking rooster, but hens work just as well! You’ll be amazed; the braising liquid that results from this long, slow cooking turns to aspic overnight in the refrigerator. Make this one day and reheat it the next to achieve this classic’s idealflavor.
SERVES 4 TO 6
About 8 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade (see this page)
3 slices of good pastured pork bacon, cut crosswise into ¼-inch batons, or about 1 ounce finely chopped pastured pork belly, skinless fatback, or bacon fat (see this page)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 (2½-pound) pastured stewing hen, rinsed and blotted dry, innards removed
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup cognac
1 (750 ml) bottle red wine
½ teaspoon tomato paste
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 teaspoon dried or fresh thyme leaves
3 bay leaves
3 tablespoons unbleached all-purpose flour
For serving:
Steamed rice or cooked egg noodles
Chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley, for garnish
Bring the stock to a boil in a small saucepan. Heat a 5-quart oval or round enameled cast-iron Dutch oven over medium-low heat and render the bacon or pork belly fat with the butter over low heat. When the fats are liquid, move the bacon or any meat to the edges of the pan, and add the chicken, seasoning it lightly with the salt and pepper and turning it in the fat to coat it on all sides.
Cook the chicken, turning it as necessary, until it begins to look more intensely colored, but is not yet browned, about 15 minutes. Add the cognac and let it cook down for a few minutes. Add the red wine and enough of the boiling stock to just cover the chicken. (If your bird is large, remove it from the pot with tongs and cut it into smaller pieces so that the meat will be submerged.) Stir in the tomato paste, garlic, thyme, and bay leaves.
Bring the chicken and liquid mixture to a slow simmer, lower the heat, cover the pot tightly, and cook for 4½ hours, or until the meat is falling off the bones.
Remove the chicken from the liquid and refrigerate it. Ladle or pour the cooking liquid through a strainer to eliminate all the solids. You should have about 4 cups liquid. Refrigerate it overnight.
The next day, remove the white fat that has solidified on top of the liquid (the stock itself should have turned to jelly). Set the fat aside. Remove the cooked chicken from the refrigerator and let it begin to come to room temperature. Reheat the stock in a saucepan and slowly bring it to a boil.
Again using the Dutch oven, melt 2 tablespoons of the reserved chicken fat over low heat and whisk in the flour all at once to make a roux. Ladle in the boiling stock in ½cup portions, mixing each addition well with the roux, until you have added all the stock and created a thickened sauce.
Return the chicken and any gelatin it has exuded to the pot, reheating everything slowly to serving temperature. Taste for salt and adjust. Serve with rice or egg noodles, and garnish with plentiful amounts of chopped parsley.
Adapted from a recipe in Spain: A Culinary Road Trip, by Mario Batali and Gwyneth Paltrow, this pot roast of whole pastured chicken is a revelation in long, low, slow, moist cooking. It is the perfect method for a pastured bird, which can tend to toughness as well as gigantism, or an old hen that needs long cooking. You may need to cook the bird breast-side-down to get it to fit under the lid of a close-fitting oval enameled cast-iron pot or a Römertopf.
Aside from the time involved (as many as 12 hours!), this is an easy dish to prepare, and it works well if made ahead. If you do that, let the dish cool to room temperature, then refrigerate it until an hour or two before dinner. Then bring it slowly back to serving temperature in a low oven. (Just don’t refrigerate it inside a Römertopf, because the clay can’t withstand thermal shock.) Serve the chicken with its juices, accompanied by a wonderful Spanish rice such as bomba to soak up the juices, and good, garlicky cooked greens (see this page).
SERVES 6 TO 8
1 (4- to 5-pound) pastured chicken
½ cup diced pastured pork bacon or pancetta, cut into ¼-inch cubes
¼ pound Loose Pork and Fennel Sausage, (see this page) or sweet Italian pastured pork sausage, casings removed (if necessary) and meat crumbled
3 to 4 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade (see this page)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Heat the oven to 200 degrees and choose an enameled cast-iron pot that will closely fit your chicken, or immerse a Römertopf pot in cold water to soak for 15 minutes, and start the roasting process in a cold oven. Bring the chicken to room temperature, rinse it, and blot it dry.
Combine the bacon and sausage meat and stuff the mixture firmly into the chicken’s cavity.
Put the chicken in your chosen pot, add the chicken stock, and sprinkle salt and pepper on top of the bird. Cover the pot, adding foil or parchment paper if necessary to maintain a tight seal on a cast-iron pot.
Place a cast-iron pot in the already hot oven, or put a Römertopf into the cold oven and turn the heat to 200 degrees. Cook for 8 to 12 hours—longer cooking makes the bird more succulent (just add more chicken stock or water as necessary to keep the liquid level high).
Serve the chicken whole or in shreds, drizzled with the rich stock.
ROASTING WHOLE BIRDS: When I buy whole pastured chickens from a farmer, I tend to roast them for festive dinners and use the bones for stock (see this page and this page). Brining always adds succulence.
Because this chicken is brined, it is juicy. When rubbed with ancho chile powder and then glazed with real maple syrup, the combination of heat, salt, and sweet is unforgettable. Try cooking this on a bed of potato wedges mixed with garlic cloves, or cook it plain, as it is here. I’ve written this recipe for an indoor oven, but it can easily be made on a covered gas or charcoal grill, using a cast-iron frying pan and thermometers to check the temperatures of the grill and the bird.
SERVES 4 TO 6
1 (3-pound) pastured frying chicken
3 tablespoons ancho chile powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 to 2 tablespoons water
2 tablespoons maple syrup
Brine the chicken all day or overnight, then rinse and blot it dry, as described in the box below.
When you are ready to cook, heat the oven to 425 degrees.
Combine the ancho chile powder and salt, and rub the mixture over all sides and the interior of the chicken. Let it sit at room temperature for 15 to 20 minutes.
Put the bird, breast side up, in a cast-iron frying pan or shallow roasting pan. Push the wing tips behind the neck area of the chicken, so that the bird is in a “sunbathing” position. Tie the legs loosely together using kitchen twine.
Pour the water in the pan and put the chicken in the oven, feet first. Roast for 1 hour, or until the bird’s internal temperature registers 160 to 165 degrees on an instant-read thermometer.
Drizzle the maple syrup over the chicken, spreading it with a brush or the back of a spoon, and roast the chicken for another 5 minutes, or until the skin is golden and crisp.
Let the chicken rest at room temperature for 15 minutes before carving it.
Marcella Hazan, in More Classic Italian Cooking, calls this pollo al limone the essence of Italian cooking, because it is so very simple and so delicious. You need a hot oven (don’t use convection because it will make a smoky mess), a good lemon or two (depending on the size of your bird), some excellent salt and pepper, and a reasonably good bird. I like to brine mine overnight (in a brining solution with sugar added), but even an hour in the brine will help make a juicier bird. The bird is then stuffed with lemon and “sewn” closed with wooden toothpicks. When the toothpick suture works and keeps the cavity closed, the chicken swells up like a balloon from all the interior juices! But even if it leaks and doesn’t swell, the meat always tastes fabulous. I’ve simplified Marcella’s recipe by not turning the bird, but I’ve made it slightly more complicated by adding a sweet glaze at the end, which makes for incredibly delicious and deeply colored skin. Finally—the true secret to the great taste of this dish—be sure to squeeze the juice from the hot lemon over the sliced meat before you serve it.
SERVES 4 TO 6
1 (2½- to 3-pound) pastured frying chicken
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 or 2 lemons, rinsed, rolled, and each pierced all the way through with a skewer 30 times
Maple syrup, honey, or slightly diluted pomegranate molasses
Brine the chicken for at least 1 hour or as long as overnight in a brining solution with ½ cup sugar added, then rinse and blot it dry as described in the box on this page.
Heat the oven to 375 degrees.
Sprinkle a good amount of salt and pepper on the chicken, massaging them into the surface and interior. Put 1 or 2 lemons in the cavity of the bird (remember that there needs to be room for the juices to swell during cooking), and seal the opening tightly with toothpicks, piercing in, out, and in, as if you were sewing, to keep it closed. Tie the legs loosely together to keep the skin on the thighs from cracking as it cooks, and put the wings behind the neck in “sunbathing” position.
Put the chicken in a roasting pan or cast-iron frying pan and roast it, legs facing the back wall of the oven, for 45 minutes. Turn the heat up to 425 degrees and cook for another 15 to 25 minutes, until the juices run clear when you pierce the bird at the thigh with the tip of a sharp knife.
Spread the glaze of your choice over the bird and allow it to cook and melt for the last 5 minutes of the cooking time. Because all these glazes are high in sugar, they will make the bird brown fast, so keep a close eye on the oven.
Let the bird sit for about 10 minutes before carving. I first slice off the wings, thighs and legs, then slice the breast into thin slices, much like a turkey. (An electric knife is invaluable.) Arrange all the meat on a platter. Remove the lemon from the cavity, and using tongs, squeeze the hot lemon juice over the sliced meat before serving.
I’ve always loved meat and poultry with a grainy mustard crust, so I created this recipe to satisfy that yearning. This chicken starts at high heat and then cooks the rest of the time at a lower heat to give it both crispness and succulence.
SERVES 6 TO 8
2½ pounds new potatoes, cut into 2-inch chunks
1 (5-pound) pastured chicken
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 head garlic, separated into cloves, papery skins left on
1 bunch fresh rosemary
1 cup grainy mustard
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons thin soy sauce
½ cup white wine
2 tablespoons heavy cream
Heat the oven to 450 degrees. Choose a ceramic, glass, or metal roasting pan large enough to hold both the chicken and the potato pieces, and fill it with the potato. Rinse the chicken and blot it dry. Remove any lumps of chicken fat and put them among the potato pieces, then place the bird on top of the potatoes. Salt and pepper the bird (inside and out), as well as the potatoes, arrange the garlic cloves over all, and put some of the rosemary sprigs inside the bird and between the chunks of potatoes.
Remove and chop enough of the leaves from the remaining rosemary sprigs to make ¼ cup. Using a food processor fitted with the steel blade, or mixing by hand in a bowl, blend the chopped rosemary with the mustard, olive oil, and soy sauce to make a paste. Scrape this over the chicken, smoothing it on with a spatula to make a thick crust.
Bake the chicken and potatoes for 30 minutes, then reduce the heat to 350 degrees for another 60 to 75 minutes, until the internal temperature of the bird registers 160 to 165 degrees when an instant-read thermometer is inserted in the thigh.
Put the bird on a carving board to rest for 15 minutes before carving. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the potatoes to a serving dish and keep them warm. Make a sauce with the liquids left in the pan by first running them through a fat-separating pitcher, then cooking down the defatted liquid with the white wine in a saucepan until the volume is reduced by half.
Remove the sauce from the heat and stir in the cream; pour the sauce into a gravy boat.
Put the carved chicken on a platter and serve it along with the potatoes. Pass the gravy at the table.
Air-drying overnight in the fridge helps chicken skin to tighten and then crisp in the oven. Slow-roasting and pre-salting create unbelievable succulence. Combine these approaches, and you’re in chicken heaven, but take note—just like getting into heaven, this requires time! Figure on about 3 hours of cooking in addition to all the preparation, making this a dish you start one day with the air-drying and then cook the next afternoon. An accurate thermometer that lets you read the internal temperature outside the oven is very helpful.
SERVES 6 TO 8
1 (5-pound) pastured chicken
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 lemon, preferably organic, washed and quartered
1 bunch fresh thyme
1 head garlic, separated into cloves, papery skins left on
2 tablespoons honey
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup fruity white wine
Reserve any innards such as the liver, neck, and heart and freeze them for another use. Rinse the chicken inside and out, then carefully blot it dry on all surfaces. Generously salt and pepper the bird, both outside and in the cavity. Put the bird on a cooling rack set on a plate, and place it in the refrigerator, uncovered, for up to 24 hours to allow the skin to dry further and tighten.
When you are ready to cook, allow the bird to come to room temperature for 30 minutes. (If you can, aim a fan of some kind at it to further dry its surface.) Heat the oven to 250 degrees and position a rack in the center.
Put the lemon quarters, thyme sprigs, and garlic cloves into the cavity of the chicken, tucking in any flaps of skin or fat to help keep them inside.
Arrange the bird, breast side up, on a V-rack or other roasting rack set into a broiler pan, or roast the chicken without a rack in a heavy gratin dish or an ovenproof cast-iron frying pan. Put the chicken in the oven with its feet facing the back wall.
Roast the chicken for 3 hours, turning the pan halfway through, or until the internal temperature registers 155 to 160 degrees when an instant-read thermometer is inserted in the thigh. Remove the roasting pan from the oven while you increase the oven temperature to 475 degrees. Stir together the honey and olive oil.
When the oven has reached that temperature, rub half of the honey and oil-mixture onto the breast of the bird using the back of a spoon. Insert an ovenproof thermometer probe into the chicken, pour the wine into the pan, and return the chicken to the oven. Cook for another 10 minutes, or until the thigh temperature reads 160 degrees and the skin is browned. Using tongs, carefully turn the bird, coat the underside with the remaining glazing mixture, and return it to the oven for a further 5 to 10 minutes.
Let the chicken rest for 15 minutes before carving it. Meanwhile, remove the garlic from the cavity and arrange it around the edges of the serving platter for those who like to squeeze out the flavorful insides. Squeeze the cooked lemon wedges into the pan juices.
Use the pan drippings to make a sauce by cooking them down to a syrupy consistency, stirring occasionally to incorporate the browned bits stuck to the bottom of the pan. Pour the liquid through a fat-separating pitcher and pour the pan sauce into a gravy boat.
Carve the bird (an electric knife is ideal for this) by first cutting off the legs and thighs and setting them on the platter. Do the same with the wings, and then cut the breast meat into slices and arrange them on the platter and serve. Pass the gravy boat at the table.
It’s easy to see how much I like pimentón, that smoky, sweet Spanish paprika. If you don’t yet have it in your pantry, try substituting Hungarian paprika or chili powder (but only if you like the heat!) and using smoked salt in place of the kosher salt to add a smoky flavor.
This big chicken is cooked low and slow, a bit like barbecue, but in the oven. Since pastured chicken can be chewier than the industrial birds you may be used to, this is a good way to make the chicken meltingly tender. Believe me, it’s worth the effort and time. Be sure to save the carcass for a very flavorful stock, so that none of that pastured goodness goes astray.
SERVES 6
2 teaspoons sweet (dulce) pimentón de la Vera (smoked Spanish paprika)
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 heaping teaspoon fresh or dried thyme
½ teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 (3½- to 4-pound) pastured roasting chicken
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for the pan
1 onion, cut into 6 wedges
Choose a nonreactive glass or stainless-steel bowl or refrigerator dish large enough to hold the whole chicken. Blend the pimentón, black pepper, thyme, cumin, and salt.
Rinse the chicken inside and out, and blot it dry. Rub the chicken all over with the olive oil. Spoon about half the spice blend into the cavity and add the onion wedges. Tuck the legs into the skin to hold them, or tie them loosely together with kitchen twine.
Put the bird in the bowl, and rub the remaining spice blend all over the back, breast, and front. Cover the bowl with a double layer of plastic wrap and refrigerate the chicken for 8 to 12 hours, or overnight.
When you are nearly ready to start cooking, let the bird come to room temperature for about 30 minutes. Heat the oven to 275 degrees.
Lightly oil the bottom of a roasting pan and place the chicken in it, breast side up. Roast the chicken, uncovered, with the feet facing the back wall of the oven. After 2 hours, loosely tent the breast with foil to protect it from drying out. Continue to cook the chicken for a total of 4½ hours, or until the dark meat is meltingly tender.
Let the bird rest for a good 15 minutes before carving it, and serve it with the pan juices poured over the white meat.
In autumn, our basement is stuffed with baskets of heirloom apples, and I’m always looking for ways to incorporate them into dinner dishes. This roast chicken feels like apple squared, thanks to the hit of cider that accompanies the roasted apples. It’s one of our favorites. With the tasty sausage and onion, we think of it as stuffing without the bread.
SERVES 4
2 links sweet Italian pastured pork sausage
1 (2½-pound) pastured or organic chicken
1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
3 assorted heirloom apples
1 onion
½ cup apple cider
1 tablespoon heavy cream
Heat the oven to 400 degrees, and position a rack in the middle.
Gently prick the sausage links with a toothpick. Pour cold water into a frying pan, submerge the sausage links, and bring the water to a simmer. Poach the meat for 10 to 15 minutes, until it is cooked through. Remove the sausage from the pan to cool and dry.
Rinse the chicken thoroughly and blot it dry inside and out. Mix the thyme leaves and butter together with a fork. Using your hands, carefully detach the skin from the flesh of the chicken breast to make a pocket, and press the butter-herb mixture into it to make an even layer over the breast. Salt and pepper the chicken inside and outside.
Choose a roasting pan only slightly larger than the chicken, such as a small cast-iron frying pan or gratin dish. Coat the pan with the olive oil.
Peel, core, and cut each of the apples into 4 wedges. Cut the onion into 8 wedges. Distribute the apple and onion wedges in the pan. Cut the sausages into ½-inch slices and mix it in as well. Put the chicken on top, and sprinkle salt and pepper over all. Pour the apple cider into the pan.
Insert a probe thermometer between the leg and thigh of the chicken, taking care not to hit the bone. Roast the chicken with its feet facing the back wall of the oven for 1 to 1½ hours, until the internal temperature is 160 to 165 degrees.
Let the chicken rest for 15 minutes, loosely draped with foil, before you carve it.
Meanwhile, using a slotted spoon, remove all the solids from the pan, put them in a serving dish, and keep them warm. Defat the juices, if you wish, using a fat-separating pitcher. Put the pan with the juices on the stove over medium heat, scraping to incorporate any caramelized bits into the sauce. Reduce the liquid by half, until it begins to be syrupy, stirring as needed.
Remove the sauce from the heat and stir in the heavy cream. Serve the chicken drizzled with the sauce, with the roasted apples, sausage, and onion alongside.
I like to roast a chicken every weekend or two, and I never throw away the carcass, because that’s the basis of this stock—obviously, I make it often. It’s wonderful to have in the freezer for making risotto, soups, any recipe or sauce that calls for stock. I buy quart freezer containers in bulk so that I always have some ready to fill. I don’t add salt to stock because I can always do that when I use it. The onion peel adds color.
MAKES ABOUT 4 CUPS
1 pastured chicken carcass after carving off the meat
1 onion, unpeeled
1 whole clove, stuck in the onion
1 carrot, unpeeled, cut into large chunks
1 stalk celery, cut in half
5 whole peppercorns
1 bay leaf
Fill a large stockpot with all the ingredients, covering them with water by at least 5 inches. Bring the pot to a slow boil, uncovered. Immediately turn the heat down to the slowest simmer; you will need to skim foam from the top from time to time during the early part of the cooking. Continue simmering the stock for a few hours, or until it is concentrated, fragrant, and golden.
Strain the stock through a colander or sieve to remove the solids. Press down on the vegetables to extract their juices, then discard the solids and let the stock cool. Ladle the cooled stock into a freezer container and chill it overnight. Remove the fat from the top and freeze the stock. It will last for several months. Bring it back to a slow boil for 10 to 15 minutes before using in a recipe.
GRILLED CHICKEN: Whether outdoors on charcoal or gas, or indoors in a grill pan, grilling exposes meat to high heat, making food crisp on the outside and tender within.
This is classic Italian summer fare. You butterfly a chicken so that it lies flat and then press it down on the grill with bricks. This always yields a tasty bird that cooks rapidly. When that chicken has been brined and then rubbed with a paste of garlic, rosemary, and salt, dinner is even more memorable. Try cooking this outside on the grill or inside on hot cast iron. I keep two foil-wrapped bricks near my grill just for this dish, but you could also weight down the bird with a heavy cast-iron pot. Putting foil on the bottom will ensure that it is easy to clean.
SERVES 4
1 (3-pound) pastured chicken
2 teaspoons sea salt
½ cup fresh rosemary leaves
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic
1 lemon, cut into wedges
Brine the chicken, then rinse and blot it dry, as described in the box on this page.
Heat a charcoal or gas grill to 435 to 450 degrees. If your grill does not have a thermometer, heat it to high heat. If you are cooking indoors, heat a cast-iron grill pan or other heavy frying pan over high heat. Wrap 2 bricks or the bottom of a heavy cast-iron pan with foil to use as a weight and have it at hand near your cooking area.
Butterfly the bird by putting it, breast side down, on a cutting board and cutting out the backbone with a knife or poultry shears. Open the chicken so that it lies flat, slightly breaking the breastbone to flatten it.
In a food processor fitted with the steel blade, or in a mortar and pestle, process the salt, rosemary, olive oil, and garlic to a paste. Rub the paste all over the chicken, front and back, on skin and flesh, inserting a little under the skin (try not to tear the skin as you do this).
Put the chicken, skin side down, on the hot cooking surface, and immediately weight it with the bricks or heavy pan. Cook for about 12 minutes, or until the skin is golden and crisp. Using oven gloves, remove the bricks carefully, turn the bird over, and replace the weight. Cook for another 12 minutes, or until an instant-read thermometer registers 160 to 165 degrees when inserted into the fleshy part of the thigh. Let the chicken rest for 5 to 10 minutes before cutting it.
Serve the bird as follows: Remove the legs, thighs, and wings and put them on a platter. Divide each breast portion in two to make 4 more pieces. Serve with the lemon wedges.
CHICKEN OFFAL AND ODD BITS: Less-familiar innards from chickens include hearts, gizzards, and feet; they are appreciated as much for their texture as for their flavor. Chicken feet enrich stocks with gelatin, which aids in relieving stiff joints. Gizzards may aid digestion, while hearts offer satisfying chewing. Livers, perhaps the most familiar of offal, offer velvet texture to spreads and pâtés.
Gizzards from pastured birds are at least twice the size of commercial ones, and offer lots of satisfying chewiness. This perfect winter entrée was unexpectedly delicious to me, and offered the further benefit that its ingredients may help boost the immune system. It is perfect to serve with rice.
SERVES 4
1 pound pastured chicken gizzards
2 ounces (about 4 inches) peeled fresh ginger stalk
½ cup dried Chinese black mushrooms
1 large clove garlic
1 small “bird” hot pepper
½ cup thin soy sauce Pinch of sugar
¼ cup water
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 scallions, chopped
Clean the gizzards of any loose fat and wash them thoroughly in cold water. Using a sharp chef’s knife with a thin blade, slice the gizzards at a slight angle into ¼-inch slices, cutting through the tough membrane and meat.
Slice the ginger very thinly and cut each slice into thin shreds. Set aside.
Reconstitute the dried black mushrooms in a little boiling water to cover for about 10 minutes, or until they are tender. Remove them from the water, discarding the liquid. Chop the mushrooms into ¼- to ½-inch pieces, put them in a small bowl, and set aside.
Chop the garlic and the hot pepper into a fine dice; put them in a bowl and set aside.
Mix the soy sauce, sugar, and water. Line up all the ingredients near the stove.
Heat a wok over high heat and add the oil, swirling it to coat the pan. Add the garlic-pepper mixture (it should sizzle) and stir-fry for 1 minute. Add the gizzards and stir-fry them, using a wooden spoon to move them around, until they are browned and half-cooked, about 1 minute. Add the chopped mushrooms and cook, stiring, for another 3 to 4 minutes. Add the soy sauce mixture, cover the pan, and cook for another 4 to 5 minutes, until the meat is cooked. Add the ginger and scallions, and stir-fry them in. Serve immediately.
Spicy and hearty, this is a dish to serve with jasmine rice or boiled chow fun noodles to balance the flavors. Like all stir-fried dishes, most of the work is in the preparation of the ingredients—the cooking takes almost no time at all. Chile peppers vary in their heat according to the season; they are hotter in summer than in winter. In terms of heat, of the three most common Mexican chile peppers, the strongest is the habanero, next comes the serrano, and then comes the jalapeño. Know your own palate, and choose accordingly.
SERVES 4
1 onion
1 red bell pepper
1 green bell pepper
1 cup (half a can) bamboo shoots
3 large cloves garlic
1 or 2 chile peppers
½ pound (1 cup) pastured chicken hearts
5 ounces pastured chicken liver
¼ cup water
½ cup thin soy sauce
Pinch sugar
Freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon cooking oil, peanut oil or canola oil
¼ cup water
Cut the onion in half and slice thinly. Reserve it in a small bowl. Cut the red and green bell peppers in half, reserve half of each pepper for another use, remove the seeds and membrane from the other half, and slice thinly. Put them in another bowl. Drain and measure out 1 cup of bamboo shoots and reserve, saving the rest for another dish.
Slice the garlic thinly, and remove the inner membranes and seeds of the chile peppers before dicing them. Using a mortar and pestle, pound the garlic and chile pepper together to make a rough, fragrant paste.
Rinse and drain the hearts. Slice each open (like a book, horizontally), and reserve in a bowl. Rinse, drain, and slice the chicken livers into 2-inch pieces, and reserve in another bowl. Mix the water, soy sauce, black pepper and sugar and set aside.
Heat a wok and add the oil. Fry the chile pepper and garlic paste, stirring, for 30 seconds. Add the onion slices and stir-fry them until they are coated with the paste and softened, about 1 minute. Add the hearts and stir-fry them until they are colored and slightly cooked. Add the bamboo shoots and the soy sauce mixture and stir. Cover the wok and cook for 4 to 5 minutes, until the hearts are nearly cooked through.
Remove the cover and add the livers, stir-frying to cook them for a minute or two. Add the red and green bell peppers, and cook for another 3 minutes, or until the livers are cooked but slightly pink on the inside. Serve at once.
When the feet are attached to a living chicken, they look so prehistoric that it’s not hard to imagine that dinosaurs and chickens have a common relative. But when they’re detached, inverted, and in the kitchen, those same feet have a startling likeness to a human hand. That likeness becomes even more distracting when you start to prepare them for cooking, because it’s necessary to slice the “palm” to make it cook evenly. It’s worth persevering, however, because cooked feet offer great gnawing opportunities, and this soup is really good. Since chicken feet from pastured birds are tougher than feet purchased at an Asian or other ethnic grocer, they are cooked here for 25 minutes instead of the more usual 10 to 15 minutes. Fresh galangal root, lemongrass stalks, and Kaffir lime leaves are available from Thai and Asian grocers.
SERVES 4
8 pastured chicken feet
1 large shallot
1-inch-piece fresh galangal root
4 stalks lemongrass
4 to 6 Kaffir lime leaves
3 or 4 chile peppers (see headnote, this page)
1 (13.5-ounce) can coconut milk
½ pound white button mushrooms
2½ tablespoons fish sauce
¼ cup fresh lime juice
1 teaspoon light brown sugar, or as needed
1 bunch fresh cilantro
Wash the feet thoroughly under running water. Set a large pot of water to boil, and blanch the feet for 1 minute to loosen the skin. Remove them to a bowl of ice water, then drain. Lay each foot on a cutting board, and use a cleaver or knife to whack off the ends of the feet, removing and discarding the toenails. Using a paring knife, peel off the loose skin and discard. Use a sharp knife to sever the tendon on the “palm” between the “thumb” and “forefinger,” slicing deeply into the meat to cut through the deep callus, which is actually the ball of the foot.
Finely chop the shallot and put it in a bowl. Peel and cut the galangal root into ¼-inch slices and add this to the bowl. Using the side of a chef’s knife, smash the base of each lemongrass stalk to expose the inner white core. Slice this finely and reserve in the same bowl.
Put the chicken feet, 3 cups water, and the shallot, galangal, and lemongrass mixture in a soup pot. Tear off and discard the central stalk of each lime leaf, and add the leaf sections to the pot. Remove and discard the inner membranes and seeds from the chile peppers, cut them into ½-inch pieces, and add the pieces to the pot. Bring this to a boil, then lower the heat to a simmer, and cook, partially covered, until the meat is tender, about 25 minutes for pastured chicken feet.
Keeping a low simmer, add the coconut milk, mushrooms, and fish sauce, rinsing the coconut milk can with ½ cup water, and adding that to the pot as well. Cook for another 5 minutes. Add the lime juice off the heat and stir it in. Taste for balance, and add brown sugar if necessary.
Chop the cilantro leaves finely.
Serve at once, putting 1 or 2 chicken feet in each bowl, garnished with the fresh cilantro. Eat the soup by holding a chicken foot in your hands, and gnawing. Spoon out the rest of the soup.
To make this stock, I buy packages of Misty Knoll Vermont-raised chicken backs and wings, save those same parts (along with necks) when I cut up chickens for other dishes, or use a whole old hen. I find that this stock demands a good quantity of meat and bones—more than just the carcass left over from one great roast chicken dinner. When I have them, I add chicken feet or duck feet (or both) to the mix for gelatin and extra flavor.
This stock is the basis in soup dumplings (see this page), but you’ll find many other uses for it as well, including (in our family, at least) curing a cold—a big bowl of this steaming broth makes anyone feel better nearly immediately. Try cooking fresh or frozen stuffed wontons in it, too (see box on this page).
MAKES ABOUT 4 CUPS
12 cups water
3 pounds pastured chicken backs, wings, necks, and scraps
6 to 10 pastured chicken or duck feet, cleaned (see this page)
1 bunch scallions (white part only)
1 (2-inch) knob fresh ginger, peeled
2 dried shiitake mushrooms
1 clove garlic, smashed
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon Shaoxing wine
Put all the chicken parts and the water in a big pot and bring it to a boil, then reduce the heat to a fast simmer. Skim off the foam that forms during the first 15 minutes. When the liquid begins to stay relatively clear, add the remaining ingredients and lower the heat to maintain a slow simmer, partially covered. Simmer the stock for 3 to 4 hours, until it has reduced by half and is strong and richly flavored.
Let the stock cool and strain it through a colander or sieve; discard the solids. Chill the stock and remove any fat that rises to the top.
When you are ready to use the stock for soup, heat it to the boiling point and simmer it for 10 to 15 minutes before proceeding.
PHEASANT: Farmed pheasant is surprisingly affordable, and is an even leaner alternative to chicken. Try braising it into tenderness, or brine it before roasting or grilling it to succulence. Pheasants are small; one bird will feed two people as a main course or four as part of a larger, multicourse meal.
This is a straightforward way to cook pheasant, using added fat, time, and a rich braising liquid to flavor and tenderize the bird. It is based on a recipe published by Simon Hopkinson in The Independent, and the beauty of it is that it can be the template for any number of variations—a Provençal version could feature winter greens with tomatoes, black olives, and capers, while an Asian take could include bok choy with rice wine, soy sauce, and star anise. I like this version because there is something about new green cabbage that sings of spring to me, and I find this the perfect home-style April dinner, served with steamed potato wedges to mix into the gravy.
SERVES 4
1 pastured pheasant (about 1½ pounds)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon pastured pork bacon fat (see this page) or pastured chicken fat (see this page)
8 cloves garlic, smashed
¼ cup sherry
4 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade (see this page)
4 sprigs fresh thyme
1 small green cabbage, fresh and tightly furled, outer leaves discarded
4 Yukon Gold potatoes, cut into wedges
Heat the oven to 275 degrees and put a rack in the center. Bring the pheasant to room temperature and lightly salt and pepper it.
Melt the butter and fat in an enameled cast-iron Dutch oven or other heavy braising pot that’s not too much bigger than the pheasant. Brown the bird on all sides in the fat—this will take at least 15 minutes over medium heat. Use tongs to transfer the bird to a plate.
Add the garlic cloves to the pot and cook them in the fat until they begin to turn a little golden, then add the sherry and stock and stir with a wooden spatula, scraping the bottom of the pot to incorporate the browned bits into the sauce. Add the thyme and let simmer slowly.
Meanwhile, prepare the cabbage: Cut the head in half and remove the core. Slice down the center to form 4 wedges from each half. Add all 8 wedges to the pot and stir them in. Return the pheasant to the pot, breast side up, moving the cabbage aside to let the bird nestle in the center of the pot.
Cut a piece of parchment paper slightly larger than the pot and push it down onto the surface of the food. Clap the pot lid on top and put the pot in the oven to cook slowly for about 1 hour. You’ll know the pheasant is cooked when the meat on the shanks starts to shrink away from the bones and all the meat begins to shred and is completely tender to the touch.
Let the bird sit in the pot, covered, for 20 minutes to allow the flavors to settle. While the bird cools, steam the potatoes in a stovetop steamer, and serve them on the platter with the pheasant and its pan juices.
Many of the flavors that make lemon pasta so delicious can also be used to make a sauce for roasted pheasant. Do brine the pheasant before cooking it to ensure that it won’t be dry or tough. I cook this in a heavy oval Dutch oven because it holds a bird well without much wasted space, but if you don’t have an oval pot, a round one will also do.
This is an elegant dish, suitable for a romantic dinner for two or a special meal with friends. Serve it with rice to absorb the sauce, and surround it with a good assortment of side vegetables.
SERVES 2 TO 4
1 (3-pound) pastured pheasant
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 thin slices (3 to 4 ounces) of pastured pork pancetta or bacon
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
½ cup fruity white wine such as Viognier
Finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
¼ cup heavy cream
¼ to ½ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
Brine the pheasant overnight, rinse it, and blot it dry according to the instructions in the box on this page.
Salt and pepper the cavity of the bird and layer the pancetta or bacon onto the breast, securing it with kitchen twine wound around the bird.
Melt the olive oil and butter together in an oval or round enameled cast-iron pot over medium-high heat. Brown the pheasant in the hot fat. When the bird is browned on all sides, remove it from the pot and discard most of the fat.
Setting the heat to low, deglaze the pot with the wine, stirring and scraping with a wooden spatula to incorporate any browned bits into the sauce. Add the lemon zest. Return the bird and its juices to the pot, and cook, covered, for about 30 minutes, or until the internal temperature of the bird registers 150 degrees on an instant-read thermometer and the juices are beginning to run clear when the skin is pierced.
Add the cream and a good dusting of nutmeg to the pot and cook over low heat for another 15 minutes, covered, or until an instant-read thermometer registers an internal temperature of 160 degrees. Remove the bird from the pot using tongs, and allow it to rest.
Meanwhile, add the lemon juice to the pot and reduce the sauce for 10 to 15 minutes, until it thickens.
Carve the pheasant and serve it napped with the sauce.
It’s unusual to grill pheasant, but I find that if it is brined overnight, it stands up well to high heat and smoke and has lots of allure. Use the same procedure to brine pheasant as you use for chicken (see box on this page). In terms of flavor, fennel pollen is an intense version of ground fennel seeds, but is more expensive and harder to find. If you have it in your pantry, this is a great time to use it. If you don’t, regular ground fennel will also work well.
SERVES 2 AS A MAIN COURSE,
4 AS PART OF A MULTICOURSE MEAL
1 (2- to 3-pound) pastured pheasant, whole or butterflied
2 tablespoons ground fennel seeds or wild fennel pollen
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons chopped mixed fresh herbs such as thyme, oregano, and tarragon
Brine the pheasant overnight, then rinse and blot it dry, as described in the box on this page.
If the bird is whole, lay it on a cutting board, breast side down, and use a sharp knife or poultry shears to remove the backbone. Press with your hands to break the breastbone and flatten the bird. If you wish, you can also remove the breastbone and ribs, but this is not essential.
Heat a covered gas or charcoal grill to high. Prepare a weight by wrapping a brick or the bottom of a heavy cast-iron pan in foil.
Make a paste with the fennel, olive oil, salt and pepper to taste, and herbs, and put most of it between the skin and the flesh of the breast, taking care not to tear the skin as you work your hand under it. Smear all the remaining paste on the outside skin.
When the grill is hot, lay the bird, flattened, skin side down and position the weight on top. Cook for 7 to 10 minutes, then turn the pheasant over and cook for a similar amount of time.
Let the cooked pheasant rest on a cutting board for 10 minutes, then cut it into 4 pieces. Serve it right away, or let it cool a little before serving.
GUINEA FOWL: Guinea fowl are small and lean, with more dark meat than light, as is common with all birds that free-range. Because they have a slightly gamy edge, fruit complements them beautifully. They can be panfried, roasted, or stewed, whole or in parts. Because the breast meat cooks much more rapidly than the legs, remove the white-meat portion early when roasting or panfrying, or braise the whole bird slowly.
Stuffing a bird with fruit is always a good idea, whether it is chicken and lemons, duck and oranges, or guinea fowl and apples. Here I’ve also used an herb butter rub for the breast meat (between the skin and flesh). This is a useful technique for keeping chicken and turkey moist, too, but it is especially important for lean birds like guineas and pheasant.
SERVES 2 EASILY, BUT CAN STRETCH TO 4
1 (2-pound) pastured guinea fowl
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Extra-virgin olive oil
4 or 5 potatoes, cut into smallish chunks
1 firm apple such as Honeycrisp, Fuji, or Granny Smith
2 tablespoons slivered almonds, toasted
2 tablespoons fresh thyme leaves
Freshly grated zest of 1 lemon
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
¼ cup white wine
Bring the bird to room temperature. Remove the fat from the cavity, along with any innards. Rinse the bird, blot it dry, and rub the inside with salt and pepper.
Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Choose a small cast-iron frying pan, a baking dish, or gratin dish that will hold the bird snugly, and film it with a spoonful of olive oil. Scatter the potato chunks over the bottom of the dish.
Peel, core, and chop the apple into a fine dice. Mix this with the almonds, 1 tablespoon of the thyme, and the lemon zest. Spoon the mixture into the cavity of the bird, packing it in to fill it. Close the cavity by pulling the skin over the opening and securing it with a toothpick. If there is any stuffing left over, scatter this in with the potato chunks.
Mix the remaining 1 tablespoon of thyme with the butter to make a paste, using either a fork and a bowl or a mini food processor. Carefully inserting your fingers under the skin of each half of the breast, open a pocket, and smear the herb butter inside. Loosely tie the legs together with kitchen twine, and drizzle a little more olive oil over all. Pour the white wine into the bottom of the pan.
Roast the guinea fowl for 1 to 1¼ hours, until the internal temperature, taken at the thigh, registers 160 degrees on an instant-read thermometer. Remove the bird from the oven, and transfer it to a board to rest for 5 minutes. Do not turn off the oven.
Transfer the potatoes and any stuffing in the pan to a dish. Cut the legs and thighs off the bird, return them to the pan, flesh side down, and roast them for 10 minutes longer. Let the breast continue to rest on the counter until the dark meat is done.
Carve the breast meat thinly, but leave the legs, thighs, and wings whole. Arrange the meat on a platter with the potatoes and stuffing, drizzling all with the pan juices (which can be defatted or not, as you wish).
Here the guinea fowl is cut into pieces and braised in spiced white wine, while pieces of pear are poached at the same time. Finished with a squeeze of lemon and a small shot of sweetness, this dish is fragrant and satisfying. Once, when I served it to friends, one said with pleasure, “Oh … they’re pears! I thought they were going to be potatoes.”
SERVES 2 TO 4
1 (2½- to 3-pound) pastured guinea fowl, cut into pieces like a chicken
4 tablespoons (½ stick) unsalted butter
1 carrot, coarsely chopped
3 pears, peeled, cored, and cut into ½-inch dice
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground cardamom
¼ teaspoon ground aniseed (anise seed or ground anise)
1 tablespoon unbleached, all-purpose flour
1¼ cups white wine
1 cup chicken stock, preferably homemade (see this page), or water
1 teaspoon dried or chopped fresh tarragon
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon sugar
Freshly squeezed juice of ½ lemon
Steamed rice, for serving
Bring the guinea fowl to room temperature, rinse it, and blot it dry.
Using a heavy braising pot such as an enameled cast-iron casserole or Dutch oven, melt the butter over low heat. Slowly cook the carrot and pear pieces along with the spices, stirring as necessary, until the spices are softly fragrant and the carrot and pears start to become limp, 7 to 10 minutes.
Remove the carrot and pears from the pot with a slotted spoon, raise the heat to medium, and add the guinea fowl pieces. Brown them on all sides, and transfer them to a plate. Sprinkle in the flour and cook it in the fat in the pot until it starts to brown.
Add the wine and stir, scraping to incorporate into the liquid all the browned bits stuck to the pot. Add the stock and continue to cook the liquid down until it is reduced by a quarter. Add the tarragon, along with the reserved carrot and pears and guinea fowl, and salt and pepper to taste.
Reduce the heat to very low and simmer, covered, for 45 to 60 minutes, until the poultry is cooked through and tender. Mix in the sugar and lemon juice. Serve the guinea fowl with its sauce over rice.
TURKEY: While pastured free-range turkeys can grow as large as 40 pounds, most growers process them earlier. Heritage breeds offer more flavor and texture than conventionally raised industrial turkeys, with well-developed thighs and smaller breasts, but even when a conventional breed is raised naturally, it will look and taste different. Adding fat in the form of a spice paste and finishing the bird with a rich sauce beautifully complements the flavor of whole roasted free-range turkey. Alternatively, birds can be cut up and ground to make a wide variety of different dishes from sausages to meat loaf, or left in parts to make other dishes such as rolled turkey loaf or braises.
This unstuffed, straight-up roast turkey reaches new heights with chile and a deep maple-coffee sauce. The spice rub is liveliest if you grind the dried chiles and cumin seeds yourself. Try grating a dusting of bitter chocolate over all just before serving. Thanksgiving may never be the same.
SERVES 6
For the turkey:
1 (8- to 9-pound) pastured turkey
2 dried ancho chiles or 3 tablespoons ancho chile powder
3 teaspoons cumin seeds or 3 teaspoons ground cumin
3 tablespoons sweet paprika
1 tablespoon kosher salt
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
¼ cup maple syrup or honey
For the sauce:
⅛ teaspoon ground cloves
2 tablespoons ancho chile powder
¼ cup light brown sugar
½ cup hot strong black coffee
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
¼ cup grade-B dark maple syrup
4 tablespoons (½ stick) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1 tablespoon grated bitter chocolate (optional)
Bring the turkey to room temperature, rinse it, and blot it dry. Whirl the whole spices, paprika, and salt together in an electric spice grinder or combine the already ground spices with the salt. Stir the spices mixture with the oil to make a paste and rub it all over the turkey, inside and out. Massage it into every nook and cranny. Let the turkey sit at room temperature for about 1 hour to allow the flavors to penetrate.
Heat the oven to 325 degrees and set a rack in the lower third. Arrange a roasting rack inside a roasting pan large enough to hold the turkey, and put the bird on the rack, breast side down. Roast the turkey, feet facing the back oven wall, for about 1 hour, then turn the bird breast side up and roast it until the internal temperature registers 155 degrees on an instant-read thermometer inserted in the thickest part of the thigh. This should take about 2 hours and 20 minutes in total. If the bird starts browning too much on the breast, tent it loosely with silver foil. Baste the turkey as needed, using the fat and juices in the pan.
When the bird hits 160 degrees, increase the oven temperature to 375 degrees and pour the maple syrup over the breast to give the skin a sweet glaze. Cook for another 10 minutes, check to be sure the internal temperature has reached 165 degrees, then remove the bird from the oven and let it rest.
Meanwhile, prepare the sauce. Mix the spices and the sugar, coffee, Worcestershire sauce, and maple syrup together in a saucepan and heat to a boil, stirring. Immediately remove the pan from the heat and whisk in the butter. Keep the sauce warm over the lowest possible heat until you are ready to serve, or leave it, covered, off the heat in a warm kitchen. Whisk the sauce again before drizzling it over the turkey or passing it at the table, grating the bitter chocolate over the meat on a serving platter, if desired.
Turkey stock can usually substitute for chicken stock in recipes, so it’s always a good base to have on hand. When you’ve paid a lot for a pastured turkey, every bone and bit of meat is a precious resource. When strained and greatly reduced, and with the addition of a roux made with fat and flour, this stock turns into succulent gravy (see below).
If you want a faster stock, or one that is not so brown, you can omit the roasting step. To remove the fat, chill the stock overnight so that it solidifies.
MAKES ABOUT 4 CUPS
4 tablespoons (½ stick) unsalted butter
1 pastured turkey carcass with meat clinging to the bones, plus the neck, gizzard, heart, and wings
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 onion, unpeeled
4 or 5 whole cloves, pushed into the onion
3 carrots, unpeeled, cut into rough chunks
2 stalks celery, cut into rough chunks
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
1 cup dry sherry
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Melt the butter. Put the turkey parts in a roasting pan and salt and pepper them all over lightly. Brush the turkey parts with butter, and roast them at 425 degrees for 1 to 2 hours, basting frequently with the fat, until the bones and meat are darkly fragrant.
Put the entire contents of the roasting pan into a large pot, along with the onion and cloves, carrots, celery, bay leaves, and peppercorns. Deglaze the roasting pan with the sherry on the stovetop over high heat, stirring and scraping to incorporate any caramelized bits into the pan juices. Add this to the stockpot along with enough cold water to cover the bones by 2 to 3 inches, and cook the stock at a slow simmer, partially covered, for 4 to 6 hours.
When the stock is rich and richly colored, pour it through a strainer and discard the solids. Let it cool, and then pour it into refrigerator containers (the 1-quart size are most practical for soups), and refrigerate it for several hours or overnight. Remove the fat that collects at the top (you can use this fat for making gravy, see below).
Julia Moskin’s story on gravy, which appeared in the New York Times, introduced me to using turkey fat for a roux-based gravy. Gravy made this way simply sings with all-turkey notes. If you don’t have reserved turkey fat, however, butter is a good substitute.
MAKES 1 CUP
1 tablespoon chilled pastured turkey fat or butter
1 tablespoon unbleached all-purpose flour
1 cup strong reduced Brown Turkey Stock (see above)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon unsalted butter or heavy cream
Melt the turkey fat in a skillet over medium-high heat. Sprinkling with one hand and whisking with the other, add the flour gradually and incorporate it into the hot fat. Cook this roux for 1 to 2 minutes, until it turns golden and fragrant. Reduce the heat to medium-low.
Add the stock ¼ cup at a time, thoroughly incorporating it into the roux after each addition. Add salt and pepper to taste. Cook at a low simmer, continuing to whisk, until thick. Add the butter or cream and serve.
Fortunately, Kenji and I had hog casings in the refrigerator and pork fat in the freezer when we set out to make this sausage. You can always make sausage without casings, but extra fat is essential. A good grinder also makes a big difference, as does partially freezing the meat and fat, along with the grinding and stuffing attachments.
The basic sausage formula is 80 percent lean meat, 20 percent fat. These percentages are by weight, so I computed it in grams for ease of mathematics.
MAKES 8 FAT LINKS, 5 INCHES LONG AND 3 INCHES AROUND
800 grams lean pastured turkey meat from the legs and thighs, cut into rough cubes
200 grams pastured pork fat, cut into rough cubes
1 pastured turkey liver
20 grams kosher salt
1 teaspoon sweet (dulce) pimentón de la Vera (smoked Spanish paprika)
½ teaspoon ground coriander
½ teaspoons ground cumin seeds
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ teaspoon ground red pepper
3 cloves garlic, smashed or finely minced
1 long hog casing
Combine the meat and fat with the liver, salt, spices, and garlic. Chill in the freezer, along with the grinding and sausage-stuffing attachments, a small sheet pan, and a medium-sized metal mixing bowl, for at least 30 minutes.
Rinse the hog casing in running water and reserve it in a bowl of fresh water.
When you are ready to proceed, assemble the grinder. Force the meat mixture through the grinder, using the pushing pestle, allowing it all to fall into the chilled mixing bowl. (If you want a finer texture, you can grind the meat a second time.) Use a crumpled paper towel to push any remaining meat through the grinder by pushing it down with the pestle into the shaft while the grinder is on. Turn off the machine before grinding the paper through it.
Return the bowl of ground meat briefly to the freezer while you prepare for stuffing. Remove the grinding attachment and put on the sausage-stuffing attachment.
Put the hog casing onto the stuffing horn, evenly pushing it into place with your hands. Leave a small end drooping off the horn and tie a knot in it. Position the chilled sheet pan so that it can catch the newly cased sausage.
Using the pushing pestle, push the ground meat through the hopper with one hand while guiding the casing with the other as it fills with meat. Your goal is to prevent air bubbles, so push the meat through at a steady pace. Make one very long sausage, winding it into a coil onto the chilled sheet pan as it grows. At the very end of the process, with the pestle, again push a crumpled paper towel into the hopper to force out all the meat that remains. Turn off the machine before you grind the paper.
When all the meat has been fed into the casing, tie a knot in the open end. Holding the sausage in your hands, create links by twisting a few times every 5 inches or so. Make your twists in opposite directions each time (first twist toward yourself, then for the next one, twist the other way).
Lightly puncture the sausage links all over with a toothpick.
Fill a deep frying pan or sauté pan halfway with water and gently poach the sausage, uncovered, over medium-low heat for 5 to 8 minutes, until it is cooked through. Keep the water at a very low simmer the whole time. Remove the sausage from the water and let it cool.
At this point, if you will not be using it right way, the sausage can be wrapped for refrigeration or shrink-wrapped (or otherwise tightly wrapped) for freezing. It will keep for several days in the refrigerator or up to 3 months in the freezer.
Use your homemade turkey sausage (see this page) as an appetizer by frying it crisp and serving it on a platter with good mustard and sweet relish or chutney.
SERVES 4 TO 6
3 to 5 Kenji’s Turkey Sausage links (see this page)
1 to 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons grainy mustard
3 tablespoons green tomato relish, mango chutney, or other sweet salsa
Cut the poached sausage into ½-inch-thick slices, and panfry the slices in olive oil until they are browned and crisp. Serve them as an appetizer with a small bowl of the mustard and another of the sweet relish or chutney for dipping. Provide toothpicks so guests can spear the sausage pieces.
Whether you grind your own turkey or buy it already ground (I buy Vermont-raised ground turkey from either Misty Knoll Farms or Stonewood Farms at my local co-op), you will have the best success if your blend is comprised of equal parts light and dark meat. This is a very moist and flavorful meat loaf that makes a great family meal as well as hearty sandwiches, but it is also excellent to serve for entertaining.
SERVES 8
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil
4 pastured eggs
1 large onion, cut into chunks
1 clove garlic
1 carrot, cut into chunks
½ pound mushrooms
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1¼ pounds ground pastured turkey
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
½ cup fresh chopped parsley
1 tablespoon fresh or dried tarragon leaves
¼ cup ketchup
½ cup cooked oatmeal
1 tablespoon honey
Heat the oven to 400 degrees and set a rack in the upper middle. Lightly brush a standard metal bread pan (4 x 7½ x 3 inches) with the 1 teaspoon olive oil and set it aside.
Cook 2 of the eggs by putting them into cold water, bringing the water to a boil, and then turning off the heat, covering the pot, and letting the eggs sit for 10 minutes. Put the eggs into ice water for a few minutes and then peel them and cut them in half lengthwise. Reserve. Beat the remaining 2 eggs in a small bowl, and set them aside.
Using a food processor fitted with the steel blade or a chef’s knife, chop the onion, garlic, carrot, and mushrooms together into small pieces, pulsing if you are using a food processor to maintain separate textures and prevent turning the mixture into a paste.
Heat a sauté pan or frying pan and add the 1 tablespoon olive oil over medium-low heat. When the oil has thinned and become fragrant, add the vegetables and stir them very occasionally, cooking them slowly until they are darker and fragrant, about 15 minutes. Transfer the mixture to a large mixing bowl.
Add the 1 teaspoon salt and pepper to taste, along with the turkey, Worcestershire sauce, parsley, tarragon, 2 tablespoons of the ketchup, the cooked oatmeal, and the reserved beaten eggs. Mix this all together with your hands or a rubber spatula. It will be very wet and gloppy.
Scrape half of the turkey mixture into the prepared pan. Lay the hard-boiled egg halves in a row down the length of the pan, yolk side up. Scrape the rest of the turkey mixture on top. Mix the remaining 2 tablespoons ketchup with the honey and spread this over the top.
Put the loaf pan on a cookie sheet (in case it overflows), and roast the loaf for 1 hour, or until the internal temperature registers 160 degrees on an instant-read thermometer. Let the meat sit and settle for 5 to 10 minutes before serving, or serve it at slightly warmer than room temperature an hour or so later.
This is a homemade version of the kind of round turkey roll you see at the deli. It’s perfect to serve both as a roast and as a filling for fine sandwiches. It is absurdly easy to make, and you will never have to buy those additive-rich, water-plumped industrial cold cuts again! It is very beautiful when sliced, as the crosswise pattern shows up on each piece. Gravy made from homemade turkey stock (see this page) is an ideal accompaniment to this roll when it’s served for dinner.
MAKES ENOUGH FOR MANY SANDWICHES, OR A DINNER ENTREE FOR 6
1 skin-on pastured turkey breast (about 3 pounds)
2 tablespoons Red Barn Spice Rub (see this page)
Extra-virgin olive oil (for entrée only)
Heat the oven to 275 degrees and set a rack in the center.
To separate the turkey breast from the bone, first remove the skin in one piece and reserve it. Using a fillet or boning knife, cut off one side of the breast and then the other by carefully cutting along the breastbone, following the bone toward the wing and back again to free the meat.
You should have two large breast halves. Rub each with the spice blend on both sides. Lay one boneless, skinless breast half on top of the other, matching the thick side of one with the thin side of the other so that they form an even block.
Cut 8 lengths of kitchen twine about 18 inches long and lay them in a vertical pattern on a cutting board 2 to 3 inches apart.
Put the reserved skin on the cutting board and lay the block of breast meat on top, aligning a long end of the meat with one long end of the skin. Starting at a long end, roll the meat and skin together, using the skin to hold and keep the roll tight. Secure the roll by tying each length of string into a knot around it, taking care to keep the roll tightly constrained. Tie a longer piece of string around the roll lengthwise to make everything a little more secure.
Set the meat, seam side down, into an oval cast-iron gratin dish or a small cast-iron frying pan. Roast for 1 to 1½ hours, until the meat’s internal temperature registers 150 degrees on an instant-read thermometer. Remove the meat from the oven and let it rest for 15 minutes, or until its internal temperature rises to 160 degrees.
To use the roll for cold cuts, let it cool to room temperature, wrap it very well, and refrigerate it until it’s needed. Slice the chilled roll very thinly all at once or as needed.
To use the roll as a dinner entrée, rest it before cutting it into ⅓- to ½-inch slices. Panfry each slice over high heat in a little olive oil until crisp on the edges, and serve warm.
DUCK: Cooking my own Rouen pastured duck was revelatory—it was tasty, but also lean and chewy. There was plenty of duck fat that rendered as it cooked, turning the potatoes layered under the bird to delectable morsels—but the amount of fat rendered was less than half the amount from a conventionally raised Pekin duck.
Don’t think, “Ho hum,” and turn the page—this is the real thing, made with fresh orange, not with one of those nasty packets filled with sweet sludge. I use Nela Rubinstein’s unique massage method from Nela’s Cookbook, and I’ve been serving this duck recipe for nearly twenty-five years with great pleasure. Give it a try, and you’ll understand why the combination of rich duck and acid oranges is a match made in heaven. If you use a Pekin duck, you’ll also harvest about a pint of duck fat to use for other dishes.
SERVES 3 OR 4
1 (4- to 5-pound) pastured duck
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 juice oranges such as Valencia (not navel)
⅓ cup sugar
1 tablespoon orange liqueur such as Grand Marnier or triple sec
Rinse the duck inside and out, blot it dry, and bring it to room temperature. Heat the oven to 325 degrees and set a rack in the center. Choose a pan that will hold the duck fairly closely but with some room to hold the fat it will exude. A shallow pan is much better than a deep one (which will steam the duck as it cooks). Choose a clean pint jar to hold the duck fat you’ll be saving.
Using lots of pressure, massage the duck, the breast area especially, to begin to break up the fat. Give it a good 3 to 5 minutes of massage, even though you may feel silly doing it.
Using a fork, prick the skin all over, taking care not to penetrate the flesh. (The bird should be heavily speckled with pricks.) Lightly salt and pepper the duck inside and out. Put it in the pan, breast side up, and place it in the hot oven, feet facing the back wall. Roast for 45 minutes.
Pour the fat from the pan into the clean jar. Return the duck to the oven, raise the temperature to 350 degrees, and roast for another 45 minutes, removing the fat with a bulb baster as necessary during this time.
Use a pointed knife to slash the skin (but not the flesh) at the junction of thigh and body, and prick the whole breast and thigh area again with a fork. Return the duck to the oven for another 30 minutes.
Start the sauce by first zesting and then juicing the oranges. If you are not using a Microplane zester, peel off the zest (carefully excluding the white pith) and chop it into fine slivers. Put the fresh juice, the zest, and the sugar in a small saucepan and bring it to a boil. Add the orange liqueur. Reduce the heat to low and cook the mixture for about 10 minutes, or until it is reduced and slightly syrupy.
Pour this sauce over the duck as it cooks and continue to baste the duck with the sauce while cooking it for a final 30 minutes. (The total time for the duck is about 2½ hours, or until the internal temperature registers between 160 and 165 degrees on an instant-read thermometer.)
Transfer the duck to a platter to rest for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, cook down the contents of the pan, scraping to incorporate all the crusty browned bits into the sauce. If you have been removing the fat as it cooks, this liquid will not be fatty at all! Just before carving the duck, pour any juices it has released back into the pan sauce. Pour the sauce into a gravy boat and serve it alongside the duck.
For those who can buy Pekin duck in pieces, this is a simple dish that’s both flavorful and exotic. The traditional way to use duck pieces is to cook the breast like steak and to use the legs and thighs for confit. If you can’t buy duck in pieces, you can easily cut several up to make packages of different parts, freezing some for later. Rose petal jam is available in fancy food stores, and dried rose petals are found in Middle Eastern stores (or in a nearby garden, perhaps, as long as they are unsprayed). In place of the rose petal jam, you could use any delicately flavored jam or good honey instead—lavender honey works equally well (when I use that, I garnish the dish with a scattering of dried lavender flowers).
This is my idea of a great romantic dinner. Duck is the red meat of the poultry world, and eating it is like eating a great steak.
SERVES 2
2 large pastured duck breast halves
2 teaspoons sea salt
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
4 teaspoons finely chopped fresh thyme leaves
6 tablespoons rose petal jam
1 tablespoon white wine
Dried rose petals, for garnish
Using a sharp knife, score the skin through the fat, cutting a diamond pattern, but do not cut the meat. Season the breasts with the salt, pepper, and thyme, and let the meat rest for about 1 hour.
Heat a cast-iron skillet over medium heat, and place the duck fatty skin side down, immediately lowering the heat to prevent burning. As you cook, a lot of fat will be rendered from the duck skin; pour it off and save it as it gets excessive.
Cook the duck until browned, about 4 minutes, then turn it and cook the other side for the same amount of time. Top each breast with a couple of teaspoonfuls of the jam and gently spread it onto the meat. Cook for another minute, then repeat the process on the other side. Remove the duck to a cutting board and let it rest for at least 5 minutes before cutting it on the bias into ¼-inch slices and arranging them on a platter.
While the meat is resting, add the wine to the pan juices, and deglaze the pan, stirring and scraping with a wooden spatula to incorporate any browned bits into the sauce. Drizzle the sliced meat with the pan juices and garnish with dried rose petals.
Serve warm.
This uses a large whole magret breast from a Moulard duck. Magret is both larger and fattier than the more common Pekin duck breast, and it will easily feed four to six people. Trim off as much fat as possible (and save it to render) before massaging and scoring the skin. Serve this with something wonderful, such as an orzo salad (see this page) or wild rice. It is a rich and celebratory dish, worthy of an anniversary or birthday dinner party. The cooking takes under an hour altogether and offers a bonus yield of at least a cup of rendered duck fat. It is also a great way to use underripe peaches, if that’s all you can find.
SERVES 4 TO 6
1 (2¾- to 3-pound) pastured magret duck breast
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1½ teaspoons ground ginger
¾ teaspoon ground cinnamon
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
2 fresh peaches, each with an X cut on the bottom
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon brandy
Split the breast in two and trim it of any excess fat along the side edges (not under the skin), and put the fat pieces aside for rendering. Massage the breast halves with your fingertips fairly vigorously to break down the fat. Using a sharp knife, carefully score the halves in a diamond pattern, cutting through the skin and fat but not into the meat.
Combine salt and pepper to taste, 1 teaspoon of the ginger, ½ teaspoon of the cinnamon, and the lemon zest, and rub this mixture over the meat on both sides. Cover the meat with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, turning once.
Prepare a bowl of ice water. Boil a large pot of water and put the whole peaches in it. When they bob to the surface with split skins, transfer them immediately to the ice water. Drain the peaches and peel off and discard the skins. Cut the fruit into small pieces over a bowl to catch all the juices. Set aside.
When ready to cook, choose a cast-iron frying pan large enough to hold both halves of the breast and heat it until it is very hot. Lay the meat in, skin side down. Immediately reduce the heat to low, and brown the meat very slowly. You should cook it for about 25 minutes on the skin and fat side, and about 20 minutes on the flesh side. The goal here is medium-rare meat—it will be pink in the center, like steak. The lower heat helps the fat to render while the meat and skin still cook. As the fat accumulates in the pan, pour it off into a jar through a strainer to eliminate bits of crust. When the duck is done, transfer it to a plate to rest while you begin making the sauce.
After pouring off all but 2 tablespoons of the fat from the pan, gently sauté the peach pieces over medium heat until they are fragrant, soft, and jammy, about 3 minutes. Stir in the butter, lemon juice, honey, and brandy, and add the remaining ½ teaspoon ginger and ¼ teaspoon cinnamon. Simmer, stirring, until the sauce is slightly reduced, 3 to 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and set it aside.
Cut the duck breast halves on the bias into thin slices, and add any juices that have accumulated on the plate to the sauce. Arrange the slices on a platter, spoon the sauce over each slice, and serve warm.
This is a proper confit, made with meat that has been salt cured, then browned, and then cooked in fat. If you want to use the confit right away, you can jump straight to the fat-cooking without the two initial steps—they are mostly for preserving. But if preserving is what you are after, bear in mind that you need to salt and spice the meat at least overnight, then to wipe it down very well before proceeding to brown the meat in the oven, and then to cook it through, very slowly, in fat. Unless you have been saving goose or duck fat for quite a while, it’s likely that you’ll have to purchase most of the fat you need, but you can reuse it for up to 6 months, provided it has been kept clean and strained, sealed in a sterile jar, and well-chilled.
NOTE: You will need to sterilize the jar for the confit just before you fill it, either by submerging it in boiling water or putting it through the “high-temperature” cycle of your dishwasher. Once cooked and put into the jar, this confit will keep for up to 6 months in the refrigerator.
MAKES 1 HALF-GALLON JAR FILLED WITH DUCK CONFIT AND DUCK FAT
4 skin-on pastured duck legs and thighs (about 4 pounds)
½ cup kosher salt
1 tablespoon crushed juniper berries
Freshly ground black pepper
4 dried bay leaves, crushed
1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves, crumbled
For more flavor (optional):
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1 teaspoon ground ginger
6 to 8 cups rendered duck or goose fat (see this page), at room temperature
Take the duck out of the refrigerator, rinse it, and blot it dry.
Mix or pound together in a mortar and pestle the salt, juniper, pepper, bay leaves, thyme, and other spices, if using. Rub this over the duck pieces on both sides (don’t miss the little flap near the leg), put them in a covered dish, and refrigerate them at least overnight or up to 2 days.
When you are ready to proceed, bring the duck to room temperature and carefully wipe off all the salt and spices with paper towels. Clean off every nook and cranny, aiming for a completely clean piece of meat. (This is important, because confit can easily turn out too salty if the rub is left on.)
Heat the oven to 425 degrees and position a rack in the upper third. Put the duck, skin side up, in the pan, and brown it for 15 minutes in the oven. Afterward, let it cool slightly in the pan, then remove the duck and the fat from the pan and reserve separately.
Reduce the oven heat to 275 degrees and move the rack to the middle position. Choose a heavy ovenproof pot with sides high enough to hold the meat along with 6 to 8 cups of melted fat to cover it. You could use a clay casserole such as a Chinese sand pot, an enameled Dutch oven, or a braising pan.
Put the duck in the pot, and pour or scoop the fat over it to cover the meat. (If a little bit of bony leg end sticks out, don’t worry.) Put the pot in the 275 degree oven on the middle shelf, and let the duck cook for 2 to 2½ hours, until the meat is pulling off the bones.
While the duck slow-cooks, pour the fat left from browning through a paper coffee filter to strain out the solids. Pour the strained fat into a jar for another use (such as Paris chicken; see this page) and refrigerate it, labeled. (This fat, which has cooked at a relatively high heat, will taste different from the low-temperature fat used to make the confit).
When the duck is ready, use tongs to transfer the pieces to the sterile jar. Pour or ladle the hot fat over them so that all the meat is covered, topping off the jar with additional fat to make a seal. Age the confit in the refrigerator for at least 1 week or up to 3 months before using.
GOOSE: Geese have high arched breasts, large cavities, and meager wing meat, so the best part of the goose (aside from its valuable fat and liver) tends to be breast and thigh meat, along with crisp skin. A 10-pound goose easily feeds six people, and can be stretched to eight with sufficient accompaniments. Such a bird will yield about a cup and a half of fat after straining.
Adapted mostly from Anne Willan’s French Country Cooking, this method of roasting a goose starts at a high temperature and then finishes at a moderate temperature, producing a bird with a crisp skin and rendering plenty of great goose fat. I like to serve goose in the Danish Christmas manner, alongside red cabbage braised in goose fat and caramelized potatoes (see this page and this page).
SERVES 6 TO 8
1 (10-pound) pastured goose
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
5 assorted tart heirloom apples
8 ounces dark beer
1 cup white wine, vermouth, or apple cider
1 tablespoon heavy cream
Bring the goose to room temperature, rinse it, and blot it dry inside and out. Using both hands, massage the breast with a good amount of pressure to break up the fat under the skin. Use a fork to prick the skin all over, taking care not to pierce the flesh.
Season the goose with a generous amount of salt and pepper, inside and out. Let it sit at room temperature for 1 hour. Meanwhile, set an oven rack in the center and heat the oven to 450 degrees—give it plenty of time to get entirely to temperature.
Peel and core the apples, leaving them whole. Stuff them into the cavity of the goose, and secure the vent with toothpicks. Tie the legs together with kitchen twine. Have a bowl ready to hold the fat that renders as you cook.
Choose a roasting pan only slightly bigger than the goose (this helps to keep the fat from burning), along with a rack that fits inside it. Put the goose, breast side up, on the rack. Pour the beer over the goose, and put the bird in the oven, feet toward the back wall. Roast it for 40 minutes. The skin will have started browning and crisping by this stage.
Remove the goose from the oven and take it off the rack for a moment so that you can pour the accumulated goose fat into the bowl. Return the goose to the rack, this time with the back facing up. Prick the skin again, taking the usual care not to pierce the flesh. Using a turkey basting tool or a brush or spoon, baste the back of the bird with the fat and pan juices and return it to the oven. Reduce the heat to 350 degrees and cook for 1 hour longer, basting every 15 minutes with the juices from the pan.
Remove the goose from the oven and the rack, and again pour off the accumulated goose fat. Return the goose to the rack, breast side up; prick the skin again; and roast it for a further 30 to 40 minutes, until it is deeply browned and crisp. The juices that flow when you prick the skin at the thighs should run clear, and an instant-read thermometer inserted deeply in the thigh should register 170 degrees. Transfer the goose to a tray and let it rest for 20 minutes.
Pour all the remaining fat into your bowl and reserve for another use. Put the roasting pan on a burner on top of the stove and deglaze it with the wine, vermouth, or cider, stirring and scraping to incorporate any caramelized bits into the sauce. Reduce the liquid by half and remove it from the heat. Stir in the cream and keep the sauce warm over very low heat until you are ready to serve—do not allow it to boil. Just before serving, transfer it to a gravy pitcher.
Carve the legs and thighs off the goose and set them on a platter, then do the same with the wings. Cut the breast meat into thin slices and set them on the platter, along with the cooked apples from the interior of the bird. Serve as soon as the meat is carved, along with the gravy.
When we farm-processed the goose I raised, I saved the neck and liver and froze them. I remember my grandmother talking about eating goose neck with pleasure, and I wanted to try it for myself. Although she never gave me the recipe, I invented this one based on my memory of her memories. The neck is boned and stuffed with a forcemeat made from bread crumbs, egg, cheese, and liver. It is then rolled inside a cabbage leaf—actually, I meant to use the skin, but it was accidentally shredded—and poached in stock. It’s served sliced, with salsa verde and potatoes.
The salsa—essentially a salad dressing with extras—works well with any mix of greens or potatoes. For those who don’t want to attempt stuffing a poultry neck or don’t have those ingredients available, let me tell you that salsa verde with boiled potatoes is a great treat in its own right.
SERVES 4 TO 6 AS A FIRST COURSE
1 pastured goose neck
½ cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
1 clove garlic
1 pastured goose liver
⅓ cup bread crumbs, preferably homemade
1 egg, beaten
2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 large cabbage leaf
About 6 cups water
1 carrot, cut into large chunks
1 stalk celery, cut into thirds
½ onion, unpeeled
1 clove, stuck into the onion half
1 to 2 pounds small new potatoes
For the salsa verde:
½ cup fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
2 tablespoons salt-packed capers, well rinsed
2 salt-packed anchovies, rinsed and filleted
2 hard-boiled eggs, sliced
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
Using a sharp knife, slice along the length of the neck and slowly and carefully detach from the vertebrae the flesh (and the skin, if you can), using your fingers and scraping with the knife to remove the whole neck bone. Reserve the skin, and discard the bone or save it for stock.
Make the stuffing by combining the parsley, garlic, and liver, finely mincing them with a chef’s knife or pulsing them in a food processor (taking care not to go too far in the direction of a purée). Mix in the bread crmbs, egg, cheese, and salt and pepper.
Lay the meat out on the cabbage leaf arranged flat on a board and top with the stuffing. (If you have been able to save the skin in one piece, you can use it in place of the cabbage.) Roll the leaf (or skin) around the stuffing so that it makes a neat, firm cylinder, folding in the sides as you go, the way you roll a burrito. Secure the roll with kitchen twine using the same method used to tie a stuffed and rolled roast (see this page), and put the neck roll in a medium-sized saucepan.
Add at least 6 cups water and the carrot chunks, celery, and the onion with the clove, and bring the water slowly to a boil. Reduce the heat to the lowest temperature at which the water makes slow bubbles, and poach the neck roll at a simmer for 40 minutes, or until the juices run clear when it is pricked with a knife.
Meanwhile, boil the potatoes and prepare the salsa verde. Using a chef’s knife, chop the parsley, capers, anchovies, and eggs together, or carefully pulse them in a food processor (working to keep a chunky texture rather than a purée). Add the oil and vinegar and mix in gently.
Remove the roll from the pan and let it cool. (Strain and save the stock for soup.) Remove and discard the twine. Cut the roll into ½-inch rounds and arrange several of these on each plate along with a spoonful or two of potatoes. Spoon the chunky salsa over all.
POULTRY FAT: Goose fat can be “brown,” or poured from the roasting pan as a goose cooks, or it can be “white,” which means it was deliberately rendered slowly from lumps of fat. Brown fat is great for cooking savory dishes, while white fat is good for anything, but is best for pastry. It takes a number of birds to collect enough fat to render “white” in one session.
Whether chicken, goose, or duck fat, rendered poultry fat is immensely useful in roasting and frying because it adds flavor, and has a high smoke point (about 375 degrees, in contrast to butter’s 350 degrees). Any crisp bits left in the pan as the fat renders are deliciously crunchy additions to salads (see Gribenes below). When preparing a bird for the oven, tear off any lumps of fat and set them aside in a labeled plastic freezer bag. When you’ve collected several cups, it’s time to slowly render the fat into culinary gold. After rendering, be sure to sterilize your jar before filling it to insure the fat will last as long as possible.
MAKES ABOUT 1 CUP
1 pound pastured goose, chicken, or duck fat, cut into small pieces
About 2 cups water
Put the fat pieces in a deep, heavy pan (a Dutch oven or a ceramic Chinese sand pot are both good choices) and cover them with the water. Cook the fat over very low heat for about 2 hours.
The water insulates the fat and protects it from browning as it melts. Check its level occasionally to make sure it does not evaporate too quickly. Eventually, during about the last 30 minutes of the cooking time, it will all boil away, leaving clean, perfectly rendered fat. As the cooking time ends, watch the fat closely and take it off the heat before it starts to color. Any water that is left will be visible after cooling and can be easily discarded. It is far better to have a little water mixed in than to have browned and strongly flavored fat.
Pour the hot fat once or twice through a paper coffee filter or several layers of cheesecloth to remove any impurities. Then put it into the sterile glass jar and store it in the refrigerator.
If you love golden, crunchy chicken skin and have fond memories of meals in Paris, this recipe is for you—it tastes just like the chickens you buy from the rotisserie stand at the Marché rue Cler. The chicken is brined and then slow-roasted for 3½ hours; it’s so memorable that it inspires cravings!
SERVES 6 TO 8
1 (6- to 7-pounds) large pastured roasting chicken
3 tablespoons pastured goose fat (see this page), melted
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Brine the chicken for several hours (or, ideally, overnight), rinse, and blot dry, according to the instructions in the box on this page.
When you are ready to cook, heat the oven to 300 degrees and set a rack in the center. Choose an oval gratin dish, a cast-iron frying pan, or other shallow ovenproof dish that closely fits the shape of the chicken.
Place the chicken in the dish, breast side up. Using a brush, paint it with as much of the melted fat as it can hold. Reserve the balance to add as the bird cooks. Generously salt and pepper the chicken, and put it in the oven, feet facing the back wall.
Roast for about 3½ hours, basting every 30 minutes or so, first with the fat you have left over from the initial brushing, then with the fat from the pan; a bulb baster is helpful.
Remove the chicken when an instant-read thermometer inserted between the thigh and the leg (and without touching bone) registers 165 to 170 degrees. Let the bird rest for 15 minutes before carving.
Save the accumulated fat in the pan—when it’s cool, pour it through a paper coffee filter or cheesecloth and store it in a sterile jar. This chicken-and-goose-fat blend is a wonderful medium for basting meat and for cooking potatoes and vegetables, or even for your next Paris chicken.
If you like crispness, these are heaven on a plate. Finely dice the potatoes for even, quick cooking, bearing in mind that you don’t have to peel them if you don’t want to.
SERVES 4 AS A SIDE DISH
3 tablespoons pastured goose fat (see this page)
1½ to 2 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes, cut into ½-inch dice
2 to 3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 heaping tablespoons chopped fresh rosemary
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Choose a big cast-iron frying pan and melt the goose fat over medium-high heat. When adding a potato cube causes a sizzle, add the garlic, potatoes, and rosemary, shaking the pan so that the potatoes stay in one layer and are coated with fat and flavorings. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, then add a little salt and pepper.
Cover the pan and shake every few minutes to redistribute the potatoes; they should start to brown, and it should take about 10 minutes to cook them to tenderness.
Uncover the pan, raise the heat to high, and cook for a minute or two longer, shaking or stirring, until the potatoes reach a perfect stage of crispness. Remove them with tongs or a slotted spoon and drain them on paper towels. Serve hot with more salt as needed.
Another take-off on a traditional Danish Christmas dish, this cabbage cooks slowly for a few hours to a melting texture. It is also wonderful the next day, especially when reheated with morsels of leftover roast goose or pork. If you don’t have goose fat or duck fat saved, substitute butter.
SERVES 6 TO 8
⅓ cup pastured goose fat (see this page)
1 cup sugar
1 small head red cabbage, cored and slivered
2 apples, peeled, cored, and cut into cubes
⅔ cup apple cider
1 (12-ounce) bag cranberries
Zest and juice of 1 lemon and 1 orange
In a large, heavy Dutch oven or a flameproof ceramic pot with a cover, melt half the goose fat over medium heat. Sprinkle on 1 teaspoon of the sugar, and add the cabbage shreds and apples. Turn the cabbage in the fat until it glistens.
Add the apple cider and lemon and orange zest and juice along with the cranberries and the rest of the sugar, stir, and cover the pot. Reduce the heat to low and continue to cook, covered, for 2 to 3 hours, checking every now and then to make sure there is still some liquid in the bottom of the pot and the cabbage is steaming.
When the cabbage is very limp and cooked down, stir in the remaining goose fat. Taste for balance—add more lemon juice for tartness or a little sugar for sweetness.
Serve warm or at room temperature.
My grandmother would recognize this dish because although it is different from the one she served, it has the same rich, chunky quality. If you don’t have any chicken fat, you can substitute duck or goose fat. Choose a heavy pan that can hold the livers closely in one layer—a 9-inch cast-iron frying pan is perfect.
MAKES 1¼ CUPS
3 eggs
1 onion
2 tablespoons pastured chicken fat (see this page)
1 pound chicken liver, rinsed and blotted dry
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Leaves from 8 to 10 fresh parsley sprigs
1 tablespoon dry sherry
1 teaspoon crunchy and flavorful salt such as smoked salt flakes or Maldon salt
Put the eggs in a small pot of water and bring the water to a boil. Turn off the heat (moving the pan to a cold burner, if necessary) and let them sit for 10 minutes. Fill a bowl with ice and water and put the eggs in the water to chill rapidly.
Coarsely chop the onion into ½-inch pieces (they will be chopped further in the food processor later). Heat a heavy medium-sized frying pan over medium-low heat and melt 1 tablespoon of the chicken fat in it. When the fat is hot, lower the heat and add the onion, shaking the pan to coat the onion pieces with fat. Let fry until wilted but still with some bite, 4 to 5 minutes. Remove most of the onion from the pan, but don’t worry if some onion shreds remain, as they add a little crunch if they are cooked more.
Rinse the livers in a strainer under running cold water and shake them dry. Melt another tablespoonful of chicken fat in the pan and when it is hot, add the chicken livers. Reduce the heat to low, add salt and pepper, and shake the pan often to distribute the meat evenly. Turn the livers, using a fork or tongs, when they are lightly browned, but not seared, about 5 minutes. Cook on the other side for another 3 minutes, or until they are cooked but still pink in the middle.
Using a food processor fitted with the steel blade, put the livers and onions in the bowl. Peel the hard-boiled eggs and coarsely slice them into the bowl. Add the parsley and sherry. Pulse in about 12 very short bursts, aiming for a chunky texture (not a paste). Scrape into a serving bowl and finish with the crunchy flavorful salt.
Serve with pieces of matzoh, crackers, or bread.
