Roast Chicken with Radishes and Parsley Sauce

Yesterday I, along with hundreds of others, learned details of my identity and bank account were hacked courtesy of my former employer’s antiquated computer system. They have retained an identity theft protection agency, ostensibly to rescue me–and everyone else–when somebody in Russia or China or wherever this happened tries buying a Belizean island using my credit.

So I this morning I ring up Identities-R-Us to register. Only I get the village idjit. Village has clearly taken some kind of sensitivity training to help deal with people who may soon have their identities jacked. Her voice is very soothing, she echo-responses everything I say to her. Except my email. That, which she’s asked for, is over her sensitively trained head.

My email is my name. It is not transliterated from Ancient Norse or Xhosa. It doesn’t employ unusual characters or even accent marks. Village tells me to expect a  “welcome letter” in just a few minutes, as in, welcome to your employer really, really fucking up, and now sign on to do to more to save your sorry ass.

Except there’s no welcome letter. Check spam. No letter. Call Identities-R-Us again. Get somebody else. This person has the sense to be embarrassed. Stuttering and sputtering, she says there’s nothing in the email section and asks me to spell my email out very slowly, letter-by-letter, promising my welcome letter will arrive in a couple days.

This is not comforting. Then again, given my former employer, neither is it surprising.

—

In between disasters much cooking got done, including this little number. Let’s chat about chickens.

It is best to purchase whole chickens rather than parts. Yes, there are times when only fast will do, and those times call for boneless. Instead of reaching for boneless, skinless breast, I urge you to try boneless thigh, which is far more flavorful. Besides, boneless breast which dries out faster than a hacker can crack an archaic college computer financial system.

When I say purchase whole chickens, I am not implying cooking and eating them entire. We, two chicken lovers, are incapable of downing such amounts. Rather, buying whole chickens is cheapest and gets you all the wonderful bits–gizzards and liver, a couple wings to fight over, those breasts, safely attached to the bone, the neck, which I so love that it’s hard to save for stock. And don’t forget the skin and of course, those precious wonderful bones, friend to soup pots the world over.

Buy whole chickens, and then either hack them up (ahem) or halve them. Stay with me here. Cutting up chickens long intimidated me. The first time I tried cutting up a bird, it looked so terrible afterward that I apologized to it. You may think apologizing to an already dead bird is deranged. Trust me, this bird really deserved it.

Then, as I cracked my kneecap into place for the fifteenth time that day, it hit me: my weird disease was an asset. I mean, my problem is lax collagen, causing subluxing (partial disjointing) and complete joint dislocations. If there’s one thing I know about, it’s how and where major bones move out of sockets. Surely this is applicable to chickens.

Cleaver and sharp scissors at the ready, I got to work.

Bear in mind that raw chicken can potentially carry harmful raw bacteria. Take especial care to wash your hands, cutting implements, the cutting board–everything!–with hot soapy water. I’m not above rubbing the cutting board with a halved lemon, either.

Grasp one thigh and bend it backward until it dislocates. You’ll hear it snap. Now use either a sharp knife or a strong, heavy, sharp scissors and cut it free. Repeat with other leg. You want to cut high around the back to free as much thigh as possible.

Some people like to separate thigh from leg. If that’s you, bend the knee joint backward to dislocate and cut through.

Do the same with the wings.

Don’t be upset if you mess up. You’re cooking this bird. High heat hides a lot. Make rice or couscous. Artfully cover.

I cut the chicken in half using a sharp, heavy scissors. They’re heavy enough that I don’t need to remove the wishbone, but you might find it easier to remove it before halving the bird. If so, use a paring knife and feel for the wishbone at the top of the bird’s sternum. Run the knife along it and cut it out.

If you want to cut the breasts into pieces (I never do), cut with a heavy knife, scissors, or a cleaver.

Most often I simply halve chickens, cooking one half and freezing the other. It’s an ideal portion for two dinners and two lunches the next day.

Radishes are wonderful roasted, exchanging their peppery bite for a deeper, mellower flavor that pairs beautifully with chicken. Plus they’re one of the prettiest vegetables around. That said, feel free to cook the chicken with your favorite veggies.

So, the parsley sauce. The deal was I had two bunches of parsley that were going to wilt and die on me, and I decided to do something with them. The second deal was I wanted enough sauce for one meal, but not enough leftover for another little plastic container in my already crammed fridge. So I only made about a 1/2 cup’s worth, nicely fancying up a regular chicken dinner at the close of an extremely trying day.