I did not eat chicken for the better part of a year. I did not purchase chicken at the grocery store to cook. I have never usually ordered it at a restaurant. I would get it in takeout — Dan Dan’s three cup chicken and any tinga de pollo tacos come to mind — but poultry was not a regular part of my diet.
There is no valid explanation for this. This year of no poultry includes much of my time cooking for @heardchefyeschef. It wasn’t exactly a conscious decision, rather, I just never craved chicken. Cooking chicken never discouraged me; I frequently stocked juicy, bone-in skin-on chicken thighs and less appealing frozen skinless breasts for emergency shredded chicken purposes (yes, those purposes exist. Mainly in soup). The best explanation is that I found chicken to be boring. I had grown tired of roasting, baking, searing, and serving with various vegetables and a pan sauce.
One night this past summer, I volunteered to cook dinner for my now-boyfriend and his roommates. I was at my parents’ house in the nearby suburbs for the day but was coming back on the Paoli-Thorndale regional rail line to South Philly that evening and knew I would be short on time (love makes you do crazy things like this). My parents were on vacation, and with no food in their fridge anyway, I stole some frozen chicken drumsticks out of the freezer, brined them in an empty jar of pickle juice that was forgotten amongst the graveyard of jars in the fridge door, and brought this home on the train with me. It looked like a middle-school science experiment gone wrong. I kept it hidden in a shopping bag.
What resulted completely changed my faith in chicken. It was an exciting dinner, loosely based on a recipe from Anchovy Trove for brined chicken in an olive relish. Chicken, suddenly, was an untapped frontier of inexpensive, freezable, delicious culinary possibilities. It became an unsung hero of weeknight dinners to come.
Since this spiritual revelation of the power of the industrial poultry plant (and local poultry farms, likewise), I have developed three chicken recipes that tap into what the best of chicken dinners can be. This newsletter has a slow-roasted fig and bourbon-glazed chicken thigh for free and paid subscribers, and two more birds for just paid subscribers: a pickle-brined crispy fried chicken, and a whole goddamn spatchcocked hen. For just $5 a month, you can unlock all three recipes:
Some housekeeping for current subscribers: my publishing schedule will soon change. I have learned that Fridays are a hard day for me to get the newsletter written and up. This is, technically, last Friday’s newsletter. This week’s newsletter will also come out on Friday, and next week’s will come out on Monday; after then, Monday will be the day that Heard Chef, Yes Chef arrives in your inbox.
If you make anything, tag me @heardchefyeschef on Instagram. Let me know your adoration, your bastardizations, your deepest and darkest culinary secrets. Think of it like a confessional. I won’t share unless you tell me to.
Slow-Roasted Fig and Bourbon-Glazed Chicken Thighs
Serves 8. Ingredients:
8 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs
1 tbsp dried rosemary
2 tbsp onion powder
1 tbsp garlic powder
1 ½ tbsp brown sugar
1 red onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup of fig jam (plum would also work)
⅔ cup of apple cider vinegar
¼ cup of Dijon mustard
⅓ cup brown sugar
½ cup bourbon whiskey
1 ½ tbsp smoked paprika (not regular paprika)
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp butter
1 ½ tsp salt
1 ½ tsp black pepper
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Make the spice mix by combining the rosemary, onion powder, garlic powder, brown sugar, and 1 tsp each of salt and pepper. Rub the thighs with olive oil and the spice mix, getting under the skin and in any crevice.
Roast the chicken for an hour and a half. In the meantime, make the glaze:
In a bowl, mix the fig jam, apple cider vinegar, dijon mustard, brown sugar, bourbon, and smoked paprika.
Heat 1 tbsp butter in a saucepan on medium heat. Cook the red onion and garlic until starting to soften and lightly brown. Season with the remaining salt and pepper, then pour in the glaze; simmer for 10 minutes or until thickened. Transfer to a blender and blend until smooth.
Remove the chicken from the oven and turn on the broiler. Glaze the thighs with the jam and bourbon glaze and return to the oven for 3 minutes or until the glaze has caramelized around the chicken. If desired, remove and glaze a second time, then broil for another 2-3 minutes.
I served this chicken with cauliflower and ricotta puree and roasted broccoli rabe. Devour.