The story of Sarah's delicious roast chicken

The scariest part about making a whole chicken is that I had never done it alone. And I wasn’t alone this time – I was with Jack!! The night started with Jack and I debating at whose house we should make dinner. I didnt’ want to make dinner at my house because I spend too much time there. I’ve been unemployed just over four months now. (Also, very difficult to cook chicken with my cat, Buganome, around). Jack didn’t want to make it at his house for the opposite reason. He’s been working too much and hasn’t considered his kitchen in a while. We decided on his house.

Here’s what we got:
1 whole chicken
1 bag of baby potatoes
3 long hot peppers
1 shallot
Bunch of tarragon
Bunch of rosemary
Jack made a spice mix for the potatoes I think mostly lots of paprika.

For the pesto-ish sauce I made we got:
Bunch of mint
Bunch of parsley
Like 4 golden cherry tomatoes
I also added toasted walnuts we already had and lot of olive oil and sherry vinegar

Even though this is a simple chicken, when I was just a kid I never could have imagined cooking like this. Chicken was either boiled by my grandmother or baked in barbecue sauce and served with ketchup by my father. Jeeps! New Jerpsey. Ten-year-old me would probably cry if she knew I was making my own sauce…

Jack spatchcocked the chicken while I made a tarragon butter to rub under its skin. I told Jack on the bus ride home from the grocery store that I was most excited for this part. I can’t explain it well but basically rubbing butter under chicken skin is like channeling a past life. And yes it’s spiritual but you can also actually feel it, like stomping on grapes with bare feet.

I tinkered the sauce while the chicken roasted. It all turned out really good and we were eating by 11:30.

Sarah Hudes