A really good (really different) roast chicken

It's stuffed with herby rice and chilli butter

It’s been a weird couple of weeks, you know. I can’t figure out how to explain it but something in the air just feels off. In some ways, I’ve found it hard to switch off, and in other ways I feel like I’m on autopilot. Everything’s just relentless, and then it’s relentless all over again.

Last night though, Rob cooked, and while he picked up some cheap steaks and noodles and some coriander, I grabbed two jumbo-sized lagers from the shop downstairs, and we hung out in the kitchen, listening to music, drinking beer and making each other laugh while Rob made this great beef stir fry with cabbage (the spice is just freshly milled black pepper, but it’s astonishing). When I got ready for bed last night, I couldn’t believe how happy I was, after a period of feeling kind of lousy. A night in cooking with my favourite person turned out to be one of the most romantic nights of the year. If you’re feeling tightly wound yourself, I’d highly recommend it.

This week’s Scraps is about a cheffy upgrade to a standard roast chicken and what to do with the leftovers. Spoiler: we’re making chicken stock.

1. Herb-stuffed roast chicken with chilli butter

We actually made this on a weekend, which was perfect, it’s a nice dish for pottering around each other and having a bit of wine rather than something you rush. The recipe comes from Thomasina Miers in the Guardian, and I’m already thinking about making it again.

The chilli butter is brilliant – we used Aleppo pepper flakes and, for fun, a dribble of hot sauce went in, too. I loved this butter because it gives a really vivid vermillion hue to the chicken as it sits under the skin and melts. It would be great on steamed asparagus spears or some garden peas, too (I’d have happily made double the amount and smeared the rest on some toasted baguette).

The other component here is the herby rice. You start by blitzing the herbs, spinach, and stock into a springy, zippy paste and heating it in a pan. Then you add the rice and stir it until it begins to cook. Before it’s completely cooked, take the rice off the heat and start piling the aromatic mixture into the chicken cavity before roasting it in the oven.

One absolutely amazing bit is when the rice that’s spilling out the chicken begins to crisp and toast from the heat of the oven, making it smell nutty and fragrant.

When we served it, I carved the breasts off the carcass before slicing into thick pieces, and gave each of us some shredded meat, too. It sat on a bed of the herbed rice, with the schmaltzy pan juices, punched-up by the chilli butter, drizzled on top. I also served it with some sauteed greens, since we’re all trying to be a bit healthy, etc.

This recipe is, alarmingly, for 6-8 people, although that sort of depends on the size of the bird, doesn’t it? I don’t know what size of a chicken you’d need to feed 8 people quite frankly so I’d just serve it for 4 people and eat loads straight from the fridge when your guests have gone home. Can confirm the chicken is good in sandwiches.

2. Now make chicken soup with the carcass

Here they are, the lads.

I always like to shove a chicken carcass in the slow cooker if the opportunity presents itself; I add some water, and whatever vegetable scraps are sitting in the fridge (on this occasion: some ginger peel, spring and white onion, some rosemary, and some lemon). Usually the process of making chicken stock, broth, or soup is a little more technical; most of the time it actually involves using fresh chicken, for one. But I always like this very shonky method because, honestly, it always tastes amazing and it takes no effort. My method is to slow cook it and strain it, meaning you don’t really need to chop anything up that fine (for garlic, I like to smash the cloves, because I want to make sure as much of the oils are seeping out as possible). So I didn’t mind that the carcass had, for example, remnants of the crispy green herby rice inside, or some coriander stems, or even some rice – it would all add to the flavour.

Seal the leftover stock and keep it in the fridge – I don’t want to give anyone any bad advice but I’d also say that I keep mine for at least a few weeks and it never did me any harm. Scraps is not responsible for you getting the shits after drinking out-of-date chicken stock in a fit of passion, however.

One thing I used the stock for was this really good noodle soup, cooking the packet noodles in the stock and adding some leftover chicken, spring onions, coriander, and a massive dollop of chilli oil on top.

One thing I would say is, obviously, if you can, freeze the hell out of your chicken stock. I don’t do this personally as the freezer becomes a sort of hellish Tetris-field of tuppaware with various fluids in them and it’s hard to keep on top of it. So after making stock, I always do noodle soup for a couple of days, or find meals that require some liquid gold. Case in point: this Japanese curry from the New York Times, which is a one-pot containing chicken, potato, and carrot. It’s katsu-esque, and would be a good way to use up any chicken scraps (this week, I actually skipped the chicken and made it with cauliflower, instead).