Chef Marc told me to rub the chicken. So I started to pet my cooked bird as if it were my pet parrot, which made Chef crack up.
“No, with your knife,” he corrected me.
I was supposed to rub my knife along the backbone of the bird to free the breast from the carcass. Not stroke the breast with my hand. I never felt more like an idiot than at that moment.
I knew I was going to be a little loopy today since I was out of sorts from my run to class. All the subways I take to school were out of commission, and I was stuck under the armpit of three different people on three cramped trains. Not fun. Then I got off the wrong stop and was still a mile away from school. So I started to sprint since I had 10 minutes before class began, and if you’re late, you may be written up or have points taken off your evaluation. (Yeah, I’m that type of student.) I got a lot of “Run, girl!” as I passed people calmly sipping their coffee on the street. Nothing like running in cowboy boots, a bulky sweater, and a giant backpack.
Amazingly, I made it to class before roll call, but didn’t have a lot of left over energy to push myself to make a Grand Mere chicken on time and without any flaws. The only thing that saved this late dish was the “delicious jus” (Chef’s words, not mine) that masked the dry chicken and not browned-enough vegetables. TGIF.
TIP OF THE DAY: If you’re roasting a chicken, and want a golden brown skin, brown the sides in a stainless steel saute pan before roasting it. Add enough vegetable oil so every touching surface is covered in fat or else the skin will burn, not brown.