Showing posts with label Pastured Chicken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pastured Chicken. Show all posts

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Heritage Meat Birds at Restoration Farm – Go You Chicken Fat Go!


When I was in elementary school, we exercised in gym class to a 45 rpm vinyl record (I’m dating myself.  It was life before CDs and iPods) called "The Chicken Fat Song."

It was a snappy workout tune written by Meredith Wilson and sung by “Music Man” actor Robert Preston.   The record was sent to hundreds of U.S. schools as part of a youth fitness initiative launched during President Kennedy's administration.   Preston shouted out moves like Touch down every morning – ten times! followed by the refrain Go you chicken fat, go away! Go you chicken fat go!   Now, some years later I still can’t that song out of my head. 

I was reminded of that catchy tune when my first heritage chicken was recently harvested at Restoration Farm.   Long and lean, the chicken is physically different than your average supermarket variety and there's almost no chicken fat at all.   I could almost hear Robert Preston’s bellowing voice in the kitchen singing, Go you chicken fat go! as I cleaned and trussed the bird.
In fact, the chicken fat was chased away in the fields of Restoration Farm.   The 2012 heritage meat birds are male free-range chickens that exercise and forage in the field.  They are breeds that once were more commonly raised, and need to be preserved – breeds that include Delaware, White Orpingtons, New Hampshires and Speckled Sussex.  They develop sleek, athletic bodies, quite unlike last season’s mostly grain-fed Cornish broilers bred to quickly put on the pounds.  They take longer to mature – up to twelve weeks versus the quick six-week maturation of a Cornish broiler.   The diet and activity of these heritage breeds is said to result in a more healthful and flavorful bird.  

One must do a bit of reading before cooking a heritage chicken.   The slim bird must be cooked at a lower temperature to assure a moist and tender breast.   At typical cooking temperatures for chicken, one could easily cook that farm fresh flavor right out of a heritage meat bird. 

I go straight to the master, Julia Child, and select a recipe from "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" called Casserole Roasted Chicken with Tarragon.  Julia’s technique of searing the bird, and then roasting it in a covered Dutch oven at a lower temperature of 325 degrees -- with lots of tarragon from the farm -- keeps the chicken moist and juicy and perfumed with the flavor of the herbs.
Did I notice a difference with my first fresh heritage chicken?   There is less meat, but the flesh did have a richness to it.  It was pronounced delicious by those who consumed it, but I'm not sure I would be able to taste a noticeable difference in a side-by-side comparison with a supermarket chicken.   I hate to admit that it felt a little less-than-bountiful simply due to the size.  It is funny that our society will look down on one who is pleasantly plump, but celebrate thinness in humans, yet when it comes to a chicken we feel a little deprived if the bird is not zaftig.  
Maybe there was a different reason to eat this bird -- a reason that had less to do with chicken fat and plump breasts and more to do with how the chicken was raised.   It is really about a better convergence of farming practices and palette.  Head growers Dan and Caroline believe that chickens can be incorporated into the farm and lead a healthier life prior to harvest.  I was there on the day in February when the birds were first delivered and placed in the brooder. 
The heritage birds truly traversed Restoration Farm in a large open pen.   They consumed grass and flowers and exercised their limbs and became part of the life cycle of the farm.  
The careful tending continued in the kitchen with the choice of recipe, and the stories told about this bird at the table.  The entire process was all more thoughtful and involved than a supermarket purchase.   
Perhaps cooking a heritage chicken is not about filling the belly, but about supporting the cycle of community agriculture and being filled with the total experience, from farm to table.   

©2012 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, October 16, 2011

The Fourth Pastured Chicken Gets a Dirty Martini Toast

By this point, I’ve cooked enough pastured chickens that I think I deserve a celebratory cocktail – both the bird and me.

It’s no small feat to dress up a chicken, work your hands under the skin, massage it with a mélange of flavors, roast it and then serve it with panache to your favorite guests. Actually, I’ve got it easy. Tricia, the manager of the Hardscrabble Chicken Project at Restoration Farm has to tend to the chickens daily, and then move their free-range pen each night. Then, she’s also in charge of the monthly harvest, which I have yet to work up the courage to witness. We should all focus on our strengths and mine is most likely in the kitchen.

The fourth pastured chicken is Number 6 of the flock and weighs 4.42 pounds. I initially had my hands on chicken Number 1, but I’ve heard you shouldn’t take the first one you see. My friend Matthew from the farm dubbed this bird Irene, because she was one of the brood that weathered the recent hurricane.

She’s a grand old dame indeed, so I dress her up for a night on the town. This month’s recipe – from “A Bird in the Oven and Then Some” by Mindy Fox – is for Roast Chicken with Green Olives, Fennel Seeds and Thyme. It’s definitely got a Mediterranean flair, but with ample helpings of Cerignola olives and lemon zest, it reminds me of a Dirty Martini. Well then, a toast to Irene for her pluckiness through stormy weather!

The recipe is mostly an exercise in chopping. The olives, garlic, lemon zest and fennel are mounded on the cutting board and chopped fine. Note to self – Cerignola olives, which are a shockingly bright shade of green, do not pit easily, even with my super-duper pitting tool. I am forced to practically shave the flesh off each individual olive.

All those fruity and floral flavors get pushed under the skin and then it’s into the oven. Most mixology experts say the origin of the martini is unclear, but I know exactly where this bird came from. The house smells heavenly – or should I say intoxicating – with the aroma of olives and fennel. The skin is less bronze than the previous pastured chickens, but this recipe contains no butter, so the end effect is more golden.


I serve the fourth pastured chicken to my friend Audrey – who is a home design specialist in a very hands-off sort of way – and knows a well dressed chicken when she sees it.

The taste is smart and sophisticated, and to be perfectly honest, any olive lover would probably tell you the leftover breast sliced and served cold over greens the next day was even better!

©2011 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved