The domestic demi-goddess has conquered another hurdle on the path to goddishness. I've spatchcocked my first chicken. It felt like playing 'operation' all over again... I'll admit to being squeamish about anything that involves cutting through bones, delving into innards, etc. As you can see, I would have failed miserably in the butcher's business.
But voilà: two spatchcocked chickens are now comfortably resting in their olive oil-garlic-maple syrup-maldon salt-crushed black peppercorns-buttermilk and rosemary marinade thanks to Nigella Lawson. Hopefully they will provide a bunch of hungry lunch guests with a good lunch in combination with some butternut squash and cinnamon mash (it's the light version of the Thanksgiving turkey fiesta, as Turkey Day is X-mas here and our poor turkey is still being raised somewhere in the green pastures of Ireland).
Will report back on the outcome of this extravaganza. But as for preparation, this is an easy one.
Update 1: have had to wash my hands three times already since I keep on smelling olive oil on my wrists, every time I lift my cup of coffee (did you know by the way that vanilla syrup is an excellent way to agrement a dull coffee?).
Update 2: they loved it. Only one drumstick left. The chooks were devoured in no time at all. The meat was moist and succulent, the skin fried to a perfect crisp; the buttermilk was in fact hardly discernible, while the maple came through, as well as the garlic, pepper and rosemary. Definitely a recommend here!
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