A home like this isn’t expensive or luxurious, but it feels so good that you can’t imagine needing anything more. It’s the kind of meal you’d serve to a king, if one decided to grace your table, but you’d also happily eat it every day if you could.

Juicier than duck, cozier than steak - a great roasted chicken beats the pants off a whole bunch of fancier meats. It tastes fine.īut a really good roasted chicken feels like a secret. When your home is just a place you lay your head at night, it’s like the rotisserie chicken you pick up in the foil bag from your local market. Really good roasted chicken has been on my mind lately, in part because Albert has been making Aran Goyoaga’s transcendent buttermilk-brined version (from this cookbook), and in part because a good roasted chicken is a little bit like the way I feel about having a joyful home. If you’ve had one, wherever it was, the response it elicited was probably a strange mixture of delight and disbelief. Or maybe a friend cooked it for you on a Sunday evening over a bed of carrots and onions. Maybe it was served to you in a restaurant, the skin golden and crispy. Have you ever had a really good roasted chicken?