Club Politique by Che Tibby

The Roast

Before I start I’d like to bring your attention to this article, which seems to only have been picked up by the Sydney Morning Herald, and not The Age or The Australian, in which Howard decides that debt relief for the most Heavily Indebted Poor Countries is most probably a good idea after all. And of course, this is the same man who decided that he had ‘reservations’ about debt relief for Indonesia after the Boxing Day Tsunami.

And speaking of bandwagons, I’m going to have to step on over to Hard News and mention the Jackson case. But, you’ll be glad to know this is actually a post about comfort food, so if you aren’t interested in hearing any more, just skip on down to the underlined bit.

Although my new occupation doesn’t allow me to make large comment on all the fun stuff I liked to complain about in the political sphere, some readers might remember me venting my spleen about a particular predisposition among conservatives towards characterising single-parent families as somehow ‘bad’.

I’ll not repeat that anger here, but I will reiterate that what really characterises being child of a social-welfare family is that you’re all too often the target of the kinds of people who prefer to prey on the vulnerable. And frankly, that’s what I see in the Jackson case.

To be honest, I haven’t followed the details very closely, although if there are more important things in the world than putting a paedophile away, I don’t know what they are. Mind you, the behaviour of those munters in Whitby is inexcusable, so no cries for a lynching coming from me. However, whether he was guilty of actually molesting boys or not, Jackson’s behaviour is as Russell points out, seriously disturbing.

Naturally the phrase ‘disturbing behaviour from Michael Jackson’ is usually a tautology, but I have some very real concerns about this one.

Take into account that Jackson appears to be a fifteen year old mentally, or younger at heart, and most probably just plain enjoyed doing all those ‘naughty’ things most normal people were actually doing at that age, and which he missed out on. But, stripping away all of the ‘bizarre’, or just plain stupid actions, you’re still left with a picture of an adult using what would in any other case be a very clear cut pattern for grooming.

I now this because I had a near run-in with one of these characters in my own youth, and as fate would have it, emerged unscathed. As it was, the realisation only came two or three years back, but the experience remains one of those near-train wrecks that lead a bloke to be ever the more cautious about people like Jackson. Thing is, it’s all there, the grown-up who likes hanging about with kids, the toys, the predatory behaviour posing as altruism.

And I reckon, even if he didn’t actually have ‘sexual relations with that boy’, you’ve got to wonder whether it wasn’t only because he didn’t realise that’s what he was doing?

Two words for those young people who were excluded from Jackson’s bed.

Near miss.

Anyhow, with the winter settling in around us, there’s only one thing that should be on the menu, yup, you guessed it, chicken. Chicken is one of those things I avoiding cooking for years because I was sure I’d stuff it up. As it turns out of course, it’s very very easy. This recipe is actually a customisation from a particular orange cookbook every Kiwi seems to be given when they leave home, and it works a treat.

Roast Chicken
You’ll need:
A chicken…
One smallish orange, or lemon.
One small onion.
Lettuce, tomatoes and Mayonnaise.
A loaf of buttered fresh bread.
Salt.
Olive Oil.
One bamboo skewer.

First of all, crank the oven up to 180 degrees, or thereabouts. Then check its weight on the wrapping, and clean the chicken. Don’t go buying a frozen chicken, they’re often tougher, and not as tasty, but if you do, sweet as. To clean it, just wash the outside of the bird, then rinse out the cavity down the back end. If there’s a little bag with bits of dead animal in there, throw then away (you’d be surprised how many people leave that in there).

Next, take your orange, and pressing down on it lightly, roll it on the bench. Not too hard or it will burst, the idea is to break up some of the segments in there. Then, using a sharp knife, make heaps of little holes through the skin, and stuff the entire thing into the cavity of the chook. It should fit in there no worries. If your orange is too big, you should have gotten a smaller one. Don’t cut it in half to make it fit.

Then, put the onion in there. If that doesn’t fit on account of the orange, cut the onion in half and squeeze it in. Then, using a bamboo skewer, kind of pin the flaps of skin over the cavity so that they keep the orange and onion in there. No skewer? No worries. Just make sure the onion isn’t half hanging out.

After that, coat the entire outside of the chicken in olive oil. This means tipping a bit on it, and rubbing it all over the bird. Think like a Swedish masseuse. Get a good layer of oil, but don’t go nuts. Then, put a liberal amount of salt on the skin, and rub that in as well, but not too hard.

What the oil and salt will do is crisp up the skin, and make it tastier. Like Homer says, “mmmm… skin….”

Then, put the chicken on a tray, and bung the lot in the oven. If you’ve got a little wire rack to go under the bird, even better, but if not, no worries. Make sure the bird is wings and legs DOWN. Some think that wings/legs up is best, but I like to make sure all the juices from the chicken fat, and the orange, seep into the breast to moisten it.

Ok, you leave the chicken in there for 25 minutes per 500g, and another 20 minutes. That means, if your chicken is 1kg, its 70 minutes (25+25+20=65 70). If it’s 1.25kg, 82 minutes (25+25+12.5+20=77 82.5). Remember, the weight was on the wrapping.

Then, watch some TV, and keep an eye on the time.

You can tell if the chicken is cooked by the skin, OR, by poking a sharp knife into the legs near the ‘knee’. If the right time has gone, and the juice that runs out of the cut is clear, you’re good to go. Also, the wings look dry and crispy at the skinny bits.

What you DON’T do is poke the little reservoir of liquid that’s built up under the skin around the breast. That liquid is keeping the entire bird moist, so leave it be. When it comes time to take the chicken out of the oven, THEN break the skin and drain the liquid into the pan. Experienced cooks can then add this to the eventual carcass to make great chicken stock (best in Laksa’s).

Next, move the chicken onto a chopping board, or a plate, and let it rest for a minute or two, while you get the remainder ready.

You might notice that there’s no roast veges and no gravy. Why? Because once the chicken cools enough, you break the chicken down by tearing it up with your fingers, and eating it in sandwiches, with the lettuce, mayonnaise and fresh tomatoes.

There is nothing, in my humble opinion, better than roast chicken sandwiches.

PS. If your chicken isn’t cooked enough? Microwave it.

PPS. And, the cooking times have been revised, using actual math, and not my own, made-up, BArts version.