Roast Chicken with Lemon and Rosemary Roast Potatoes deconstructed

This past weekend, I had the luxury of spending 4tj of July in the Bay Area, among the bounty of delicious foods and superb bread. I wouldn’t say that SF and/or Berkeley surpasses us in fine dining or ethnic foods, but Northern California bread is pretty hard to beat, especially with Acme doling out its beautiful baguettes. While this post is not entirely about bread (and mostly about chicken as you can see), it was the natural precursor to chicken consumption. How can one enjoy really fresh-baked, local bread without wanting some kind of equally fresh protein?

I returned from 6 hours on the road with an Acme baguette and a hankering for some really good roast chicken. Roasting chicken has never been my thing. I always find chicken roasted at home to be too dry and bland. My friend Alice recently cooked up a pretty good bird that was juicy and lemony. I wanted to see what Jamie would do in my situation, so I decided to test his Roast Chicken recipe online. Lucky for me, a friend emerged from the woodworks with a desire to cook chicken as well. That friend and I decided that it would be “chicken” night at my house, though I felt it was more like Acme baguette-night with a side of roast chicken.

Jamie says to go for organic, free-range chicken. We found one at Gelson’s that was the perfect size, enough for 2-4 people. A bouquet garni was prepared in advance; it was some rosemary, parsley, and thyme, tied up and stuffed in the chicken cavity. We also cut up some lemon halves to be “jammed” inside the chicken. Jamie says that “the benefits of the hot steaming lemon going into the chicken are very obvious as the meat tastes amazing, and the chicken cooks slightly quicker because of it.” Everything else that happened was more spontaneous. I had to put the recipe down because what with poultry juice all over my hands, it seemed necessary to go with gut instinct from then on. A garlic, parsley, French butter compound was rubbed all over the chicken exterior and thinly sliced lemon was neatly inserted under the skin. Under the roasting rack and in the pan, we placed thinly sliced onions, more lemon, and purple potato pieces lightly seasoned with salt and pepper. The side veggies needed very little flavor enhancement. Chicken fat alone would be flavor enough.

We popped the set up in the oven and during the 30 minute wait period, I cut up some Acme bread and made a grilled peach salad with leftover arugula, toasted walnuts, goat cheese, and peaches. Like I said, I wasn’t expecting too much from the chicken so I was sure I would be happy just with the salad and bread. But then…

The roast chicken emerged from the oven and holy mother of God, it was glistening with juice and begging me to eat it. The slightly charred skin looked crispy enough for my tastes. And the smell of citrus drowned out any desire to kill off the rest of the bread. We watched in awe as the juice just squirted with each slice. Ok, that sounds a bit pornographic, but I was truly in an insatiable beast-state of mind. And I didn’t even describe the potatoes yet...

The chicken dinner was simple, light yet hearty, and yielded enough leftover chicken for additional meals, and perhaps two of the best meals I’ve whipped up in ages…

Stay tuned…



Sitting pretty on the rack; about to get some sauna work.


Acme bread, gazing up at me, wanting to be devoured.


Almost being devoured!


Now, tell me this isn’t a Bon Appétit magazine cover shot!?


This was really tasty. Purple potatoes and onions with chicken fat, a sprinkling of sea salt, and tons of lemon juice!

SHOP AT
Acme Bread Company
1601 San Pablo Ave
(between Cedar St & Hopkins St)
Berkeley, CA 94702
(510) 524-1327

Potato Cakes with Smoked Salmon was my ode to “breakfast for dinner” night.

“Breakfast for dinner” is my specialty. Back in the day as a poor but resourceful college student, I balanced my checkbook by having breakfast foods for dinner. Savory oatmeal required very little ingredients to make, and really just a small saucepan and a wooden spoon to make with. Quaker oats, soy sauce, sesame oil, and a jar of furikake made for an indulgent weeknight meal. A bacon egg sandwich turned into a dinner-on-the-run. And if my checking account looked REALLY pathetic, I’d settle on a bowl of cereal. Despite the “need over want” scenarios, I didn’t mind eating out of sequence. Breakfast had always been my favorite meal of the day, anyway. It’s the most comforting, I think, and the only time when eating something sweet isn’t considered ruining one’s appetite or stunting one’s growth (thanks, Mom). Hurray for pancakes!

I decided I wanted breakfast for dinner last week. I had seen an “English Breakfast” recipe on Jamie’s site but was picturing my painful morning meals when I studied abroad in Stratford-Upon-Avon one summer, many moons ago. So I looked up “potatoes” and found this. I was sold on the combo of all of my favorite foods. I also like edible things, stacked neatly on top of each other. This required stacking four breakfast-appropriate items starting with the potato pancakes working all the way up to the dollop of sour cream or crème fraiche. I was thrilled!

This recipe was a big fat winner. From start to finish, the steps were easy to follow. Timing was important however, what with boiling the potatoes until cooked but still firm, and boiling the egg until soft and runny, but not raw. I bought the smoked salmon from Trader Joe’s, but am feeling a inspired to try smoking my own next time (any suggestions, Jamie?). I opted for crème fraiche instead of sour cream since the former just is a tad richer in texture and flavor. And last but not least, the chopped green onion mixed in with the grated potatoes added a nice, spicy kick to the entire dish. Given my high tolerance for all things onion, I added a generous amount. The potato cake almost resembled a Chinese scallion pancake. It’s no wonder that when I re-capped the whole story for one of our food editors, she suggested I season the potatoes with some ground, toasted Sichuan peppercorns, next time of course because there will definitely be one…


Red-skinned and yellow-skinned potatoes; I don’t believe in segregation.


Grated cooked potatoes, chopped green onions, and a spoonful of flour, all about to become heavenly pillows of potatoe-y goodness.

Version 1 (Day 1)


Version 2 (Day 2) I decide to integrate the purple potatoes into my cooking for a little party in my mouth!


This is how I like to eat my meals–like a ravenous beast.

A lovely pork chop with bay salt, cracklings, and squashed potatoes. And reconstituted asparagus soup (formerly, very frozen).

After work, I have to compulsively remind myself that this project is meaningful and worth the laborious crafting of 1,000 mental grocery lists. You see, cooking every night kind of blows. Scratch that. Cleaning up after myself in the kitchen blows more. Regardless of the loathsome soaping and scrubbing, jamieallweek has allowed me to mature as a cook. A sprig of mint or squeeze of lemon here and there has become instinctual! I used to avoid mint and lemon because the two are decidedly very intense ingredients. But I’ve learned that a little goes a long way. The two, when combined, really brighten up protein and vegetable dishes. Yes, yes, I am patting myself on the back right now.

This project has livened up my tastebuds. Jamie is adamant about using herbs in his food. I grew up on Sichuan-style cooking, and herbs never appeared in my diet (though I ate plenty of chilies, which my mom swears, stunted my growth). It’s fun experimenting with all the stems of greenstuff growing in my friends’ backyards (or in the produce section of Trader Joes). This is precisely why I decided to cook from Jamie’s best pork chops recipe. The pork chops are seasoned with a ground bay leaf-fennel seed-salt concoction. Served alongside are “squashed” purple potatoes (I only had new) and a hard cider-mustard reduction (I only had apple cider vinegar). It’s not real-life cooking without the monkey wrenches!

The rub was to be prepared in a mortar & pestle. Who knew an antiquated tool that my grandparents used during the Cultural Revolution, would still be relevant. Even in the time of food processors and the “bullet” (infomercial reference), it’s the easiest way to granulate large unmanageable particles. It’s an effortless way to muddle Thai bird chilies without being dangerously close to them (and then rubbing your eyes with the infected fingers, like I did once). Monkey wrench: All of the herbs I used in the “paste” were dried. So, using my common sense, I added a drop of olive oil. Hooray for paste!

Fluke #2: With no hard cider on hand (thanks anyway Ben, I know you scoured the aisles!) and only apple cider vinegar to work with, the acerbic djion and vinegar combination would have pickled the pork. Kristina (guest #2) suggested sweetening up the sauce with some honey. Honey did the trick. The Sauce à la Moutarde-and-um-honey added a sprightly kick to the herby chop. With thyme/porkfat-roasted potatoes and wilted spinach alongside, the impressive pork chop-dinner was a success. And this is what I mean about becoming a better cook: Figuring out how to maneuver through difficult, unfamiliar terrains without completely derailing. Now, how do I incorporate that in other areas of my life?

Sidenote: I’m lucky to have such thoughtful dinner guests. Amy brought cupcakes and bounty from her herb garden. Ben brought his own pork chop and potatoes and the vinegar I used to test my situational adaptability. And Kristina baked delicious filled cookies that she just drummed up the day of.



Fennel seed, bay leaves, and salt working hard at becoming paste.


Roasted new potatoes with pork fat resting atop.


Two average pork chops hanging out with a fancy one. Long story.


Krim’s really delicious homemade blueberry jam- and habanero chocolate-filled cookies.


El fin.