Oh no you din’t! Oh yes I dit! That’s right, French style roasted chicken can be deliciously delivered right on your backyard grill. So. if vous avez le désir to add a little “Hon, Hon, Hon!” to your poulet rôti, then this is the technique for you.

Let me begin by telling you that I have an intense love for roasted chicken. To me, “tastes like chicken” is actually a good thing. If you’re dubious, then you’ve probably never had a properly cooked roasted chicken. There is a nostalgic comfort elicited by the smell of a chicken roasting in the oven – crispy skin, herbs, maybe some roasted veg…and then there’s the schmaltz. That’s right, schmaltz – that delicious, silky, broth of rendered chicken fat that pools in the bottom of your roasting pan just begging for a little roux and mustard to elevate it into lip smacking, heavenly gravy.

Now that I have your taste buds all ready for velveteen gravy, I have to make a confession. You won’t be getting any gravy on this technique. What you will get is a plump, grill roasted bird, bursting with herb laden juiciness and paper-thin, crispy skin.

French Style Grill Roasted Chicken with Tarragon Butter

Gather your ingredients:

• One  3-5 lb (preferably organic) chicken
• 1 bunch of fresh tarragon (dried won’t work here)
• butter
• dijon mustard
• salt and black pepper
• olive oil
• brine for the chicken (salt, sugar, spices, water)

The first step is to mix the compound butter. Start with 1/4 lb (or so) of softened butter (~1stick), 1/4 cup of chopped tarragon, 2TBSP dijon mustard, salt and pepper (to taste) and mix that with a little olive oil in a glass bowl with a fork to make a compound butter. Set this aside at room temp.

Next make a brine for the chicken. I like to use a good amount of salt and sugar at a 2:1 ratio along with some peppercorns, a half onion, and half of a lemon. For this chicken, I used 1.5 qts water, 2 cups salt and 1 cup of sugar. For more on brining check out this awesome article. Brine your chicken for at least 2 hours, but not more than 6.

About an hour before you start the grill, and about 3 hours before you plan to eat, pull the chicken from the brine and pat it dry with paper towels. For best results (ultra crispy skin) let the chicken air-dry in the refrigerator for 30-45 minutes on a rack (bottom shelf!).

Next, we need to add the herb butter. A good tip is to first use your fingers to gently separate the skin from the breast starting at the neck and then working your way down to the legs while keeping the skin intact. Don’t worry if you rip it – we can work with that.  Carefully push the herb butter under the skin of the chicken starting at the top of the bird (breasts at the neck) and working down into the legs. Pack as much of the herb butter as you can under the skin, then massage the skin to evenly distribute the butter mixture. If you have any butter left over, spread that over the breasts and thighs.

If you ripped the skin take a toothpick and reconnect the skin without piercing the meat of the chicken. It’ll look like Frankenchicken, but it will keep the butter under the skin while its cooking.

Next, liberally salt the inner cavity and the entire outside of the bird. Salt actually helps with crisping up the skin, so don’t be shy. You can either truss the chicken with kitchen string like this, or you can tuck the wings under then use a wooden skewer to pin the legs back as I have done here.

Now go light that grill! I used charcoal (on my trusty Weber Silver) and the indirect method as you can see below. By putting coals on the outer edges of the grill and the chicken in the middle, an oven-like convection is created. I did not use smoke (soaked wood chips) for this preparation, because I wanted the herbs and the chicken flavor to be the highlight.

Cover the grill with the lid and leave the vent holes half open on the top and the bottom (gas grill: medium heat). You’re looking for a grill cooking temperature of 300 -325 F. Check periodically to make sure you’re not getting hot spots or flareups and temp the bird often after the first 45 minutes to make sure you don’t over cook. Use a temperature probe inserted into the deepest part of the breast (and not touching the bone) to check doneness. This should take about 90 minutes – give or take. Pull the chicken from the heat when the breast is 160F and the thigh is 170F. Tent with foil and allow to rest for a full 20 minutes before carving.

Serve with roasted potatoes (from the grill!) or grilled asparagus and enjoy with a nice oakey White Burgundy or Sonoma Chardonnay. Bon apetite!

What’s better than barbecued oysters, Sonoma Chardonnay and a West Coast Sunset? Not much. The great thing about Pacific oysters is that they really don’t have an off-season (months without R’s) like the east coast oysters. This is because the water stays colder and in the case of Drake’s Bay, Tomales Bay, Point Reyes, Washington state etc, they can actually lower the oysters into deeper, colder water when the warm, early Fall months hit the West Coast. So when the Altantic oysters get milky these osyters are still briny and amazing.

That said, “sans-R” months where I’m from in South Carolina mean BBQ’d oysters. And although, “raw, on the half” is my favorite way to eat oysters, barbecued oysters are not be missed. That’s why I was excited to barbecue these Drake’s Bay oysters on the houseboat in Sausalito. As you can see, these babies are big. It takes a brave soul to sidle up to a plate of these big’uns at a raw bar.  Enter at you’re own peril, in other words. However, these cooked oysters shrink up nicely when you cook them in the shell, which makes them much more manageable going down.

Smoked Barbecued Oysters with Mignonette Sauce

No mysteries here for this technique. Gather a dozen or so large, raw oysters and carefully shuck them to retain as much of the oyster liquor (liquid) as you can. Set up a grill for indirect cooking giving you a hot and cool zone (charcoal: coals on one side; gas: light one side of the grill, duh). Soak some of your favorite hardwood chips in warm water just as you light the grill so they’ll be ready when you need them.

Place the oysters close together on the cold side of the grill:  Ever.So.Gently. We don’t want to lose any of that liquor! Drizzle some of your favorite BBQ sauce on each oyster with a spoon or a silicone brush. Add a handful of your soaked chips to the hot coals, cover, and let the briny, smoky magic happen. These took roughly 10 minutes for medium well-ish  oysters. Your mileage may vary. You’re looking for a little shrinkage while still leaving some of that delicious BBQ-y, briney nectar still in the shell. I eat them whole, but some people prefer to use a fork. I also prefer the flinty snap of a Chalk Hill Chardonnay with this dish, but a cold IPA would go just as well.

Mignonette Sauce

No rocket science here. Minced shallot (brunoised, if you got that swagger like Escoffier) goes into a glass mixing bowl with a light vinegar (champagne, rice wine etc), pinches of sugar, salt and cracked black pepper (to taste) are added then whisked. Serve room temp with your Q’ued bivalved mollusks. If you have any stories from Point Reyes or Hog Island, let me know!

Cheeseplate: Podda, Point Reyes Blue, Piave, Culatello

So, how do you put together the perfect cheese plate? The same way you get to Carnegie Hall: You stop at the Carnegi Deli first. Actually, you (practice x 3). And by practice, I mean eat a lot of cheese.

That said, a cheese plate is can be much more than stinky cheese on a board that you deliver to unsuspecting guests with a wearing a beret, a striped shirt and a scowl (like I do). Cheese plates can be everything from the perfect cocktail hour apertivi, a savory amuse bouche to fire up those taste buds, all the way to the final plat of your yearly 21 course gastronomical explosion extravaganza that puts Thomas Keller and Alice Waters to shame. Ahem…

The point is: it’s not rocket science. As with wine, start with what you like and work from there. Chances are if you like, it your guests will too. If you’re new to fancy pants stinky cheese, then you’ll probably want to start with some standards and maybe roll out one out-of-your-comfort-zone cheese each time just to expand your horizons. A good rule of thumb for cheese plates is a soft, a semi soft and a bleu. This “rule” is broken more often than not, however.

The best place to start your cheese buying is at a specialty grocery store. That doesn’t mean you have to break the bank, it’s that chain grocery stores (Publix, Bi-Lo. Stop N Shop, et al) typically do not have a good selection of quality cheeses. Good choices are: Whole Foods, Earth Fare, Fresh Market etc. If you live in a city, then I highly suggest hitting your local specialty deli. Be sure to ask lots of questions to the cheese-monger (yes, cheese-monger). Most folks who work the cheese counter really love cheese and have a deep knowledge of region, taste, milk type etc. If you’re new to it, then certainly let them know. You may get turned on to a cheese that you would have never considered or were too timid to try.

In terms of display, you can use a cutting board, a piece of slate or marble – pretty much any flat surface capable of being carried from the the prep area to the guests will do. You should definitely experiment.

As for utensils, each cheese should have its own knife so the cheeses don’t get mixed when guests are eating. It’s also a good idea to cut a few pieces of each cheese to encourage guests to do it in the same fashion. Another general rule of thumb is cut cheese off so that the original shape is maintained. So, for a triangular wedge of Brie (a soft cheese) cut a thin slice or two that leave the triangular shape to the main piece. For hard cheeses like Parmigiano-Reggiano you can either cut uniform pieces or as is more common, fleck off chucks with a cheese knife. Cheeses with inedible (or very hard rinds) are just fine. Don’t worry about removing them (assuming guests can get to the cheese without cutting). Also, any condiments should have appropriately sized spoons so your guests can serve themselves without making a mess. (e.g. No tablespoons in the ramekins).

Speaking of condiments, unless the container is very decorative, you should always put condiments in a new container like a ramekin or bowl.

Bread is usually welcome with any cheese plate, but not necessary at all. If you have a really expensive cheese (and stinky e.g. Époisses) and the quantity is therefore limited, you can certainly use nuts, honey or fruit to garnish. Also consider some premium charcuterie (aka salumi, cold cuts, deli meat), seasonal nuts and fruits along with your cheese, especially if you are using your cheese for cocktail hour.

The cheese plate is nothing to fear, especially if you have taken some time to consider your guests, the season and your own sense of adventure.

The board above:

The board above starting clockwise from the lower left is:

• Culatello (cold cut) – a cured Parma ham made from the prosciutto cut (the best cured meat on earth)
• Point Reyes Blue Cheese – blue cheese from Point Reyes California (tangy, tart, mildy stinky)
• Pears – organic golden pears from Massachusetts 
• Podda -Sheep and Cow’s milk cheese from Sardinia (grana cheese that tastes like Reggiano and Pecorino combined. If you want a cheese that makes people go “wow, what was that?”, this is it) 
• Piave Vecchio – Cow’s milk cheese. Tart, slightly grana, italian cheese)
• Pecorino Toscano (Pienza) – Sheep’s milk cheese from Pienza Italy

Oysters on the Half Shell at J’s Oyster in Portland Maine.

When you think of New England you think cold weather, cold water, cold interesting people and fresh, delicious seafood. That’s why when I was recently in Portland ME, I naturally found myself at a mother shuckers paradise of bi-valve heaven: J’s Oyster. At J’s, simplicity is the rule. You want oysters? You get an icy plate with a dozen, shucked, a plastic ramekin of cocktail sauce, wedge of lemon and little teeny plastic fork. Simple. Easy. No mignonette or silverware picks or fancypants accouterments  to get in your way of briny oyster goodness. Beers are cold, steamers are hot (and ridiculously good on a cold Maine day) and the prices are very reasonable for a creek-side fish shack. Next time your Down East and looking for some wicked good shellfish, give J’s a try.

Pan Seared Porchetta With Creamy Grits

Porchetta. Arguably, the most exalted, yet feared preparation of our tasty friend, the pig. Many home cooks have tried to prepare this delectable dish – which proffers decadent, herbaceous, slow-cooked meat wrapped with golden, fat-basted, teeth jarring, salty ‘cracklin’s’ – and most, most have failed. It’s not their fault. How many of us have a commercial sized oven capable of boxing a full size gutted pig all rolled up with herbs, garlic and oil, and sewn together? Not any apartment I’ve ever lived in.  I guess if you had your own gigantic rotisserie on wheels, that might help, but sadly, they don’t sell those at IKEA. At least not yet.

So, brave home cook with a hankering for crispy, juicy, herby porchetta, what do you do? Well? You cheat. And by cheat, I mean go with what you can get your hands on and make the best of it. That is the quintessence of New Soul Food.  Your grandmamma will be proud. (esp. if you don’t have to use her oven).

Our porchetta begins with a common, easy to find pork cut known as the shoulder (or Boston butt). We chose this cut because it has lots of fat (which equals flavor!) and it contains some dark and light meat, giving us some semblance of using a whole pig (if you squint real hard). We chose a nice, locally sourced 7lb, bone-in shoulder with the skin intact.

7lb. Pork Shoulder. You can certainly leave this fat on and score it for extra fat cracklins. We chose to remove some of the fat cap to get a better, more edible crust.

We actually removed some of the fat cap on this because we wanted a more aesthetically pleasing crust (read: our guest were scared of full on cracklin’s) but you can certainly leave it as-is. In the pic below, the fat we left is on the bottom.

Trimmed Porchetta (pork shoulder)

The next task is de-bone the shoulder. This is actually harder than it looks because the angular shoulder bone zig-zags its way across the inside of the shoulder as you can see below.

Deboning is harder than it looks.

To make the pistou (herb paste), we loaded our food processor with garlic, sea salt, cracked pepper, olive oil and some Simon and Garfunkel (parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme). This is more eye-balling than recipe.

Pulse for pistou!

What you’re looking for is a slightly damp paste the consistency of dry ricotta cheese. Spread this on your butterflied shoulder and break out the kitchen string!

The homemade pistou (herb paste) has been applied. Now we truss the porchetta.

Obviously, I could stand to truss a few more things to get my chops back, but you get the picture. Pork should be wrapped, pistou on the inside. You’ll probably have green fingernails for a few days after this as well,

Trussed Porchetta. Not pretty, but trussed.

Preheat your over to 400 degrees F. Once the oven is up to temp, place the uncovered porchetta dish on the middle rack for 20 minutes. After that, reduce the over temp to 275 degrees F and tightly cover the baking dish with foil. Cook until the internal temperature reads 175-180 on a temperature probe (approx 1.5 hours). Remove the dish from the oven and let the porchetta sit for at least 10 minutes before carving. You can slice the porchetta into 1 inch rounds and serve right away with any sides of your choice. We had roasted broccolini with garlic and red chilis and cannelini beans, stewed with fatback and thyme.

Crusty, Herby Porchetta fresh form the oven!

The best part is that the leftovers are as good (or better) than the original. We had it seared with grits the next morning for breakfast (banner pic).

We’d like to take credit for this inspiration for this preparation – our porchetta loyalty runs deep – however, we got the idea from Chad Robertson, owner and Chef of Tartine Bakery and Bar Tartine in San Francisco. If you love bread (like I do) I highly suggest his book Tartine Bread.

What do you with 3lbs of leftover pulled pork and a hangover the size of Sullivan’s Island? You make pork hash! And Bloody Mary’s. And an Emergen-C.

Pork Hash is the perfect hangover leftover food. It’s salty and fatty and goes great with bacon and eggs. In fact, you can just cook it all in the same pan like I did. First fry 1lb of bacon. Eat 3 slices. Reserve the rest. Next, to make the hash, just add some poblano [or insert your favorite pepper here] pepper, onion and cooked potatoes to your cold pulled pork. Patty it up and fry in the bacon grease leftover in your cast iron skillet. Fry an egg, put it on top, garnish with bacon. Drink bloody mary. Eat your hash. Sleep all day. Done and done.

Food Trucks in Boston

Spring has sprung. The trees are bloomin’, the weather’s warm and there are Food Trucks in Boston! Well at least one of those statements is true. and for my money I’ll take a piping hot Bánh mì over 70 degrees anyday (even if the Bánh mì, ain’t exactly tradish). But I digress…

I’m just psyched to see food trucks making their way to Beantown. Having just moved here from San Francisco, where herds of Food trucks lumber slowly like so many buffalo across the 1850′s American plains and you can’t step off a muni platform without getting smacked in the face with the fantastic smells of fusion food you can eat with your hands. Needless to say, I was somewhat chagrin about the state of the Massatwoshits food truck situation. Oh, and I’m not talking about that TyFlo, dog-and-pony that ran on the Food Network last year, I’m talking about real deal, Korean-taco-BBQ-Chinese bun-bouillabaisse-creme brulee trucks and every combination of the above. Seriously.

Again with the digressing? Okay. You get it, SF has an incredible food scene, blah blah blah. SF is warm and glorious 340 days a year, no bigs. You know all this. The point is, imagine my twee elation at seeing a small pack of freshly hatched food trucks stretching their newborn legs, bright eyed and hopeful in Boston’s City Hall Plaza last week -just as I was about to ingloriously grab a Spurlock special at the Faneuil Hall rusty arches.

OOOOHWAAAAAT? Noodle soup, Bahn mi, and chickpea fritters? Here? But. This…is Boston.

Blink…blink,blink. *rubs eyes*

Yes please!

Although this flock was tiny, the turnout was huge and I managed to wrangle the very last pork Bahn Mi from the girl running the window of Bon Me. (Enjoy SF on your vacay!) In terms of traditional, this Bahn mi was not, but honestly, I think that’s the point – hence the tongue-and-cheek moniker. I’m psyched to try the noodles and Southeast Asian stylings at at momoGoose and I’d even try a chickpea fritter from Clover.

So if you live in Boston, fear not, Winter will be over in like, June and there is hope on the horizon for delicious mobile food. Seen any Trucks? Have a Truck? let us know. We’ll eat your stuff! And then write about it.

Pork Roast in a Cast Iron Pot, L'Estaque, France

When I think of soulfood, 1 pot dishes usually jump to mind. So when we were setting up our kitchen in a small town near Marseilles France, I knew I wanted to cook roast pork as Provençal as I could make it (read: drunk on rosé and pastis).

We started with a 3 lb (6.6kg) roast, and added mirepoix (diced carrots, onion, celery) and some local fingerling potatoes. For flavor, we used Herbes de Provence, the local dried seasoning blend with fennel, basil, rosemary, thyme, savory (sometimes lavender) etc. It’s a perfect complement to roast pork.

The method here like any 1-potter is more gut feeling than recipe: add everything to the pot, salt and pepper to taste, a little white wine then cook slow and low till the meat is roughly 160 degrees in the center (for medium well/well). That should take a couple of hours, tops.

This roast came out great. We served it with a slightly chilled Chablis and we even gave some to “Buddy” the neighborhood kitty.