Chicken with Mustard Crust

As I’ve been writing this blog, I’ve come to regret my “Welcome” post. I suspect this is normal. But as I think through the list of people and publications that I like, I’ve realized that there were several glaring omissions. For one thing, I completely forgot about Serious Eats, which is a website I check and use all the time. Although its mission seems to have shifted somewhat—it seems to me that it is less focused on home cooking and more focused on restaurants over the past year—it’s still a great resource.

But the true glaring omission from that first post was Jacques Pépin. I have multiple Pépin books, and they are uniformly wonderful, with interesting recipes that always work, in my experience. As much as I adore Julia (which is a lot), and as much as I admire her works for bringing the traditions of French cuisine to the United States, I think that Pépin has really taken that tradition and updated it in some really creative and interesting ways; he can definitely do the classical French, puff-pastry-and-hollandaise sort of thing, but he is also able to streamline and modernize French cooking with ingredients and techniques from (gasp!) other cultures.

He is also one of the few classically trained restaurant chefs who actually understands the difference between cooking in a restaurant and cooking at home. It might seem straightforward, but an astonishingly large number of cookbooks written by chefs do not get this. Thus they say things like “take 5 quarts of veal stock” or “place ingredients a 20-quart stockpot.” Pépin doesn’t do crap like that. His latest book, Essential Pépin, is well worth the price of admission.

This recipe comes from an earlier book, More Fast Food My Way, and is one of the go-to recipes in my modest abode. You basically butterfly a chicken, slather it with a mustard-based marinade, and throw it into the oven. It basically makes roast chicken a dish that is attainable on a weeknight.

You begin by preheating the oven to 450 degrees F. Although I have friends who never preheat their ovens (you know who you are), it’s a good idea on this one, because the whole point of this is to cook the chicken as quickly as possible.

Then you chop a lot of garlic. Pépin calls for two tablespoons. I never measure garlic (I’m lazy), so I figured 5 or 6 cloves would do the trick.

Then, either chop them finely, or put them through a garlic press (I told you, I’m lazy).

You then mix in the remaining ingredients, which include white wine, hot sauce, soy sauce and olive oil.

Also mustard. Hence the name of the dish. I forgot to take a picture of the mustard, but hopefully you’ve seen mustard at some point in your life and can identify it without my assistance.

Pépin calls for herbes de provence here. There was none in my pantry, but I had some fresh rosemary in the fridge.

It works better if you chop it.

Mix it in with the rest of the ingredients in a small bowl. I completely spaced and forgot to take a picture of that, too. I’m new at this, OK? Don’t judge me.

Now take a chicken.

Turn it breast-side down. Take a sturdy pair of kitchen shears* and cut down either side of the backbone to remove it. You can use a sharp knife, but the shears are easier (and probably safer).

I probably should have warned you to look away if you’re squeamish. Too late now. Anyway, the backbone is on the left. It is important to bag this and put it in your freezer. This allows you to be smug and say “I’m going to make stock next weekend” to yourself until you quietly throw away that sad bag of frozen bones six months later.

Slather half the mustard mixture on the flesh side of the chicken.

Put the chicken, skin-side up, into an oven-safe skillet (a large Dutch oven would probably work as well), and rub the other half of the mustard mixture on the top of the bird. I usually pour a ¼ cup or so of broth or water into the pan at this point, just to make sure the drippings from the chicken don’t burn.

Put the pan on high heat until you hear the chicken sizzling (Pépin says 5 minutes; my stove usually doesn’t take that long). Put it in the oven and cook for 30 - 35 minutes.

Break time.

When the chicken is done, let it rest for a few minutes before you carve it. I know that cookbooks always say that, and I know it sounds like BS, especially when you’re hungry, but it actually is a good idea.

While it’s resting, I like to add some chicken broth to the pan and make a bit of gravy. I just add a ½ cup or so, and bring it to a boil, whisking occasionally, until it’s thickened a bit.

Then carve the chicken, using either a knife or the shears again.

Serve it forth, in this case with roast potatoes (different recipe, to be discussed in some future post).

Also stay tuned, because at some point, we’ll be discussing what to do with the leftovers of this particular bird.

From Jacques Pépin, More Fast Food My Way, Roasted Split Chicken with Mustard Crust

Mustard Crust:

2 tablespoons chopped garlic

2 tablespoons Dijon mustard

2 tablespoons dry white wine

1 tablespoon soy sauce

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 teaspoon hot sauce

1 teaspoon herbes de provence

½ teaspoon salt

1 chicken (about 3 ½ pounds)

For the crust: Mix all the ingredients in a small bowl

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Using kitchen shears or a sharp knife, cut alongside the backbone of the chicken to split it open. Spread and press on the chicken with your hands to flatten it. Using a sharp paring knife, cut halfway through the joints connecting the thighs and drumsticks and cut through the joints of the shoulder under the wings as well. (This will help the heat penetrate those joints and accelerate the cooking process.)

Put the chicken skin side down on a cutting board and spread it with about half the mustard mixture. Place the chicken flat in a large skillet, mustard side down. Spread the remaining mustard on the skin side of the chicken. Cook over high heat for about 5 minutes, then place the skillet in the oven and cook the chicken for about 30 minutes. It should be well browned and dark on top.

Let the chicken rest in the skillet at room temperature for a few minutes, then cut it into 8 pieces with clean kitchen shears. Defat the cooking juices. If you like, mound some mashed potatoes on each of four warm dinner plates and place 2 pieces of chicken on each plate. Pour some juice on the mashed potatoes and chicken, and serve.

*Should you be brave enough to navigate the rat maze that is an IKEA store (assuming you live near one), you can buy this pair of kitchen shears for a ridiculously small amount of money. They are called TROJKA (because IKEA) and they can cut through a chicken like nobody’s business. This isn’t product placement or anything; it’s just that I am genetically programmed to tell people where bargains can be found (Thanks, Mom!).