10 September 2008
Nothing says, "You are home," quite like a roasted chicken. In my opinion.
We bought a beautiful not-so-little organic chicken on Granville Island for a whopping, record-breaking $21. Organic is never cheap but I find New York prices quite reasonable when considering Vancouver's...Anyway, she was a sweet thing, and at the last minute I snatched up a gorgeous bunch of watercress to accompany her as a simple, peppery salad, as well as some little red potatoes.
While Vince and I had drinks two minutes away on the beach, watching the sun dip behind the mountains beyond English Bay and Vancouver Island, she roasted at 425'F, for a total of an hour and twenty-minutes. Around her the sliced red potatoes basted in the juice of a lemon, a little water, the fragrance of a pilfered rosemary branch (this is a city where it grows on the sidewalks), and many cloves of garlic stuffed inside her.
I deglazed the pan with 1/2 a cup of dry Vermouth while the bird rested under some foil, and we ate it all with some Perrier Jouet, courtesy of JFK's duty-free.
The next meal I cooked was a slightly different story. Actually, no. It was the third one that was...er...interesting. You'll have to wait.