Dining In

Alison Roman · Dining In

When people ask me what my favorite thing to cook is, often I’ll give them the most boring but honest answer possible: roasted chicken. In a personal quest for “the one,” I’ve tried a bird every way possible—simple salt-and-pepper birds, spatchcocked and slow roasted, brined, and trussed—but I always come back to this version: smeared inside and out with a salty, garlicky anchovy butter; roasted at a high temperature for brown skin, then low for juicy breasts; stuffed only with more garlic and maybe some herbs; legs akimbo (I have a strict “no truss, no fuss” policy). I’m going to be honest with you: this recipe is almost too much. The sticky juices from the roasted chicken, the caramelized bits from anchovy butter, and the croutons that cook in the skillet and crisp in the fat, well… I mean, it’s really all just too much. Almost. For what other dish would you be tempted to lick a hot skillet?

Alison Roman · Dining In

When people ask me what my favorite thing to cook is, often I’ll give them the most boring but honest answer possible: roasted chicken. In a personal quest for “the one,” I’ve tried a bird every way possible—simple salt-and-pepper birds, spatchcocked and slow roasted, brined, and trussed—but I always come back to this version: smeared inside and out with a salty, garlicky anchovy butter; roasted at a high temperature for brown skin, then low for juicy breasts; stuffed only with more garlic and maybe some herbs; legs akimbo (I have a strict “no truss, no fuss” policy). I’m going to be honest with you: this recipe is almost too much. The sticky juices from the roasted chicken, the caramelized bits from anchovy butter, and the croutons that cook in the skillet and crisp in the fat, well… I mean, it’s really all just too much. Almost. For what other dish would you be tempted to lick a hot skillet?