Destiny & The Dirty Bird

First published to SFHouseMouse.com on 10/8/2015

For years now, I’ve had a friend nudging me to monetize my skills as a chef. She says every time she eats my food she sees money laying on the table. In all this time,the idea of making my past actually work for me has been too daunting a task with too much pain steaming en papillote. Recently, however, epiphany came for a visit.

This year at Burning Man, Flirt Camp was missing a member. She is a woman in love, and that being written, decided to skip her annual homage to The Man to test the strength of her affections for her man with a road trip West. 330 Scott Street had actually received word of this guest appearance in the months pre-Burn, but as is the case when planning for a big event, all else is pushed aside—and out of sight, out of mind. Anyway, the two surprised us with their cameos, and 330SS scrambled to accommodate the occasion. What does one do with with surprise guests and half a camp that has RSVP’d for dinner? Why, it’s off to Costco, of course!

The first decision was what to do for dinner. My favorite food to both cook and eat is roasted chicken. It’s cheap. It’s easy. It can be prepared 101 ways. And there’s something about that Dirty Bird that inspires the heart. Plus, the damn thing takes so long, it gives one time to set the table, clean the prep, and whip up a few sides

***One thing to note, my food is not meant for a frazzled mother, pressed for time, juggling hungry kids and an over-loaded work schedule. Nor are my recipes intended for the bachelor gourmand who cares not what sustenance he shoves in his mouth. These recipes are created for the social alchemist—someone as interested in the quality of the raw product, as they are with the mood-elevating consequences of gastro-orgasmic imbibing. Food is meant to be shared—with one, or many—and these recipes are meant not only to nourish the body, but to feed the hearts and souls of those with which you choose to break bread.***

The Chicken is a fine example. She was at one time a living being, and that life should be honored in your preparation. When choosing your bird, look for one who lived a good life and was respected with sunshine, pasture, and good food. You are eating all that she was. You are ingesting her life and giving thanks with the knowing that one day you, too, will be food for others (be it bacteria, worms, trees, etc.) so that the world may go on living. Costco, surprisingly, makes this mindfulness economical. They carry organic, free range fowl that has been certified as humanely raised, for just over $2 a pound. So, chicken it was!

I decided to do Dirty Bird Three Way(s) in honor of the sexy vibe that is Flirt Camp. One was dressed in orange zest, tarragon, and shallots. The second wore lemon zest, homegrown lemon thyme, and crushed garlic. Lastly, was a combination of the two—the Everything. I mix the ingredients with a high grade olive oil (and this time I had some Hemp Oil in my pantry, so I threw some of that in for good measure), and plenty of good salt (once again, every ingredient matters! Please, please, please get off the iodized salt and start exploring the world of unrefined sea salts, pink Himalayans, Maldons, Fleur de Sels, and just plain Kosher.) I always rub my concoctions under the skin, which can be done by gently lifting it from the muscle around the neck, and on the opposite end by the stuffing cavity. Make sure you get all the yummies shoved and rubbed into the legs, wings, back, and boobs. By getting under the skin, you ensure all that flavor penetrates the flesh, instead of rolling off the top like water from a duck. Also, if you want to get really fancy, gently shove some thinly sliced citrus wheels in there for dramatic effect. I always start the chicks tits down, and keep them that way for about 2/3 the cooking time. For a five pound bird in a 350 degree oven, I like to go about 2 1/2 hours, or until the skin starts to pull away from the ankles. This time I chose to cook the birds like a roast, and fire the oven up to 500 to start. After placing everybody in the ultra-hot oven, I turned the heat down to about 250 for the duration of their roast.

Next on the list was getting the vegetables roasted. Keeping in mind that vegetables, too, were once living creatures; I want to eat the ones who lived a good life. That means they were grown in organic soil, fed organic fertilizer, and were cultivated by farmers who loved them. Costco is, of course, more on the industrial side of the organic equation, but often has a pretty good selection. This shopping trip was no different, and I was in luck! They had taken the time to do some of the prep for me with pre-pealed and cut butternut squash (if you have to handle this gorgeous gourd all on your own, the peeler works well to skin the beast, and the rest is up to your chef’s knife. I recommend cutting it the short way, above the bulge for easier handling. Then you can slice in half, long-wise, and start your cubing). In honor of fall, and the fruits of late harvest, we roasted off a medley of mushrooms, sweet and white potatoes, butternut squash, baby carrots, and whole cloves of garlic—nom nom! I tossed this in my aforementioned oil mix (EVOO and Hemp), salt, and a pinch of cayenne (this last is great for cleansing the blood, and has long been thought of as an aphrodisiac. If used in moderation, most palates will not even register it’s fiery elements). Because the mushies roast—and finish—at different times than their denser counterparts, I kept 'em separated. Also, this way you won’t discolor the other veggies with the brown liquid that bleeds from them while cooking, nor will you mush out the carotened counterparts. Once sufficiently browned and tender, toss the whole lot together, taste the finished product in case you need to add seasoning (or keep roasting. Nothing is worse than a crunchy potato!), and serve.

Lastly, to titillate my roommate, I also made soup (her favorite). Who doesn’t love a warm and hearty soup on a cold Autumn evening? Thankfully, I always keep a bit of stock in the freezer. For this group of sixteen (give or take), I used three quarts of the stuff. Farm Fresh To You has been a delight, sending me gifts from their gardens I wouldn’t normally keep in the fridge—gifts like the lump of celeriac and some long leeks that were wondering when I would get to them. Now was the time! Into the stock pot went mirepoix, leeks, celery root, white potatoes, and garlic. Sweat your onions first, then goes the carrot and celery to soften. Next, is the firmer potatoes and celeriac (celery root). Once all of that has a little heat under it, add your garlic (garlic is mainly delicate oil, and not water, by adding last you ensure less chance of scorching). Cook these until the garlic turns white and gives off it’s pungent odor. Mix in a little thyme (in this case, I echoed the flavors from the other dinner items with my homegrown lemon thyme), cayenne, and salt (not too much, you will season fully later). Then, deglaze your pot with some dry white wine and let that reduce 2/3 of the way. Top off the lot with your chicken stock, bring to a boil, and quickly turn down to a gentle simmer. Once all of your vegetables are soft, bust out the immersion blender and and go to town until smooth. If you want to get really fancy, you can push this mush through a chinois, but since time was of the essence for this dinner, and frankly, I was done working, I served the puree as is. I finished this mess with some fresh lemon juice and a last hit of salt to taste. While this pot was stewing, I plopped a little organic, grass fed yogurt on some cheese cloth and let it drip out it’s excess water until service. This was used for the soup’s garnish, and topped with a sprinkle of garlic chives.

The guests were requested to bring wine, desserts, and any other sides to complement and fill the table (including chairs of their own!), and Costco came through for these last items, as well. Our old, rickety Ikea table works well enough for up to eight—if we snuggle up—but fourteen to sixteen would be pushing it. I finally gave in and bought a six-foot folding dealy jobby, threw some old white linen curtains over everything for a table cloth, and set the plank with my great-grandmother’s cheap china and some mason jars. We lit tea lights for an elegant visual. The long table allowed us all to come together, family style, and enjoy the company of our extended family in cozy comfort.

While we sank further into our feast, I thought, “I could get used to this.” I was able to see (and feel) exactly what it was I loved about cooking, and how much I want to share all of this with everybody. I could feel the healing from my past seep into this tender moment with my friends. And now I offer it all to you. When I was working in professional kitchens, or when I would take on a cooking job, I felt enslaved in certain ways to the paycheck. Cooking in these environments is not always loving and blissful. Often one works exceptionally long hours, is providing nourishment for those he or she doesn't really give a shit about, and seldom does one get to see (and feel) the praise that comes from feeding another well. I learned time after time after bloody time not to cook while upset—the end result is not something *anyone* wants to eat—but now, I get to take this knowing to a new level. I Love cooking for those I Love, and I love sharing our joy in the hopes that it will inspire you to create joyful gatherings of your own.

If you ever need any help in the kitchen—be it recipes, techniques, or menu suggestions—please don't hesitate to ask by leaving a comment in the appropriate section, or shoot me an email: jeneviecooks@gmail.com. Thanks!