It’s the age old question what came first, the chicken or the egg? Today I have the answer; it’s the chicken – but it’s to win the egg. Confused? Let me explain. In my family we are known for our traditions, especially surrounding the holidays. One of these crazy rituals involves an Easter-egg decorating contest. Each year a theme is chosen and we are mandated to create an egg that fits the theme. Then on Easter the eggs are proudly displayed, and judged – yes judged, by specific criteria. The judges (unsuspecting guests, recruited neighbors, random people off the street) have to use an actual form with criteria to rate each egg on things such as originality, design, humor, and best in theme. Now if you are naturally creative and retired like my mom and my aunt – this is your dream come true. But if you are working full time, running a blog, and just trying to find time to have a few minutes of peace, the ritual is a pain in the ass. And I’m not the only one who feels this way – when I voiced my irritation at this tradition my dad secretly pulled me aside and said I totally agree with you. So I was thrilled when over the summer we were talking about making some changes to our holiday traditions. It was the perfect opportunity to boycott the egg. I said, “Ma, with the egg – no more, and really no one likes to do it”. I was thrilled when my usually very reserved brother Chris said from the next room, “Yeah Ma, no more egg.” Yes! We doubled up on her – no more egg! Or so I thought…
Not a week after Christmas had passed I went to visit my parents. And what is on the counter but a picture of an egg decorated as a bug. Marilyn (my mother) proudly waved the picture in my face and with her Cheshire-cat grin she said this year our Easter egg theme is insects! And before I could argue she said Aunt Charlotte’s egg was already done and that Aunt Charlotte suggested we up the ante by prepare an oral report that would include why we choose this insect and a brief background about our critter of choice. Have these people eaten too much sugar or are they just retired?!
And so the competitive wheels in my mind started to turn. You want to play, OK I’ll play. I’m outsourcing my egg to one of the most talented and creative people I know my good friend Eileen, who also happens to be VP of Creative Services at one of the world’s biggest media companies. That’s right people – a professional creative! So I’ve invited Eileen out for a lovely roasted chicken dinner (see the chicken does come first), where we will drink wine and work on the egg. Eileen has already done some sketches and a mockup. And so dear readers stay tuned as the drama builds on whose egg will win this year’s contest.
Lemon Chicken with Croutons
Serves three to four (note I have doubled this recipe and roasted two 5lb. chickens)
1 (4- to 5-pound) roasting chicken (I use a kosher chicken)
1 large yellow onion
Olive oil
Kosher salt
Ground black pepper
2 lemons, quartered
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
6 cups of ¾ inch bread cubes (from Italian, French or country bread)
1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
2. Slice crust off of bread, cut bread into cubes. Put on baking sheet and toss with olive oil (about 2 tablespoons of olive oil) and kosher salt. Bake in oven until bread starts to brown. Remove from oven, let cool and set aside.
3. Remove giblets from chicken, wash inside and out and pat dry. Slice onion and place in roasting pan, pour ¼ to 1/2 cup of water or chicken stock in bottom of roasting pan. Sprinkle inside of the chicken with salt and pepper. Place quartered lemons inside the cavity of the chicken. Brush the outside of the chicken with the melted butter, sprinkle with salt and pepper. Tie legs together with kitchen string and tuck the wings under the body.
4. Roast the chicken for 1 ¼ to 1 ½ hours. (I usually test with a thermometer – I remove when I get a reading of 170 degrees from the thickest part of the thigh). Remove from oven and allow it to sit for 15 minutes.
5. Place the croutons on a serving platter, slice the chicken and place it and the juices on top of the croutons.
Adapted from Barefoot in Paris