When you can't find the words, you can always roast a chicken.

It's simple, really. A few pads of butter, some garlic, salt and pepper, a lemon if you're feeling sassy, and of course, a chicken. Put those few elements together in a pan and add heat to the equation though, and something magical happens.

I remember the first really great roasted chicken I had. It was at Angèle, in Napa, and it was divine. There may have been a bottle or two of wine involved, but it actually brought tears to my eyes. One of the things I love most about cooking, and food in general, is sharing it. And in that moment, I wanted everyone I knew to have that chicken. They needed that chicken.

At the time I didn’t realize it, but that meal changed me. At least, it changed how I cooked. I started thinking more about the quality of ingredients, precision in preparation, and nuances of flavor. It made me a better cook, and all I did was eat it.

That's the thing about food. At the basest level, we need it to survive. It doesn't have to taste good, it just has to nourish us. At a higher level, though, even a humble, inexpensive piece of chicken can be elevated to an experience remembered a decade later with actual affection. As someone who never has the right word at the right time, I rely on cooking as hot buttered proof of how I feel. And more often than not, when I can't find the words, I roast a chicken.

Roasted Chicken

Ingredients

Special equipment used in this recipe includes a 12 cast iron skillet, kitchen twine, and a stick lighter.

1 whole chicken, 3 1/2 - 5 pounds
1/2 stick unsalted butter, melted
2 heads of garlic, halved through the middle
1 large or 2 small shallots, quartered lengthwise
1 or 2 lemons, halved
4 sprigs fresh thyme
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 ounces cognac or brandy

Directions

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.
Remove giblets from chicken, if included.
Pat chicken dry with paper towels, and place breast up in a 12 inch cast iron skillet.
Salt and pepper the chicken, starting with the cavity. Don't be shy with the salt-use two or three pinches on the inside, and another two on the outside. Then a pinch of pepper inside, and another one on the outside.
Place the fresh herbs inside the chicken.
Cut about 10 inches of kitchen twine, and use it to tie the ends of the legs together. Side note: I have no idea how to truss a chicken, and I don’t have the patience to learn. I just wrap the twine around the end of one leg, then the other, leaving enough loose twine on either side to pull the legs together and tie the loose ends. Take a look at the photos below for reference.
Tuck the wings under the back of the chicken by pulling hem away from the body slightly, then twisting them up and back toward the skillet, and then tuck the ends of the wings under the body.
Place the garlic and lemons cut side down in the skillet around the chicken. Fill any gaps between the garlic and lemon with the shallots.
Pour the melted butter over the chicken. Remove the skillet from the oven, and then rest the chicken on a board or plate while you turn what’s left in the skillet into the best pan jus you’ve ever had.
Place in the oven and roast for 45-55 minutes, or until the skin is deep golden brown and a thermometer inserted between the thigh and breast reads 165 degrees. Spoon the melted butter over the chicken twice while cooking, and rotate the skillet halfway through. This will ensure delicious, evenly browned skin.

Cooking Notes

Buy the best quality chicken you possibly can, preferably organic. It makes all the difference in flavor and texture.
A 3 1/2 pound chicken should be perfectly cooked in 45 minutes, but start checking the temperature at 35 minutes in case your oven runs hot. A bigger bird will take longer to cook but the same rules apply. The chicken will continue to cook as it's resting, too, so pulling it from the oven a few degrees shy of 165 is a good idea.
Rest the chicken for at least 10-15 minutes before carving to allow juices to absorb back into the meat. Pour whatever juices accumulate on the carving board back into the skillet.

Pan Jus

Remove the lemon from the skillet and discard.
Using a pair of tongs, squeeze the halved garlic to expel the cloves into the pan. Discard the garlic skin.
Remove the herbs from the chicken and add them to the pan.
There should be about a 1/4 cup of juices left in the pan—all that butter and schmaltz and lemon practically turns itself into a pan sauce—we’re just going to tart it up a bit.
Heat the skillet over medium-high heat until the juices begin to simmer. The skillet will still be ripping hot from the oven, so this won’t take long.
Add the cognac to the skillet, and carefully use the lighter to ignite the cognac and burn off the alcohol. For dramatic effect, especially if you have an audience, pour the cognac from about shoulder height and the splatter will ignite on its own. Flambé! Now it is a French roasted chicken dinner, and you are a bad ass.
After the alcohol has burned off, remove the skillet from the heat.
Remove the herb sprigs from the skillet and discard.
Spoon the garlic and shallot into a fine mesh sieve, and using the back of the spoon, mash it through the sieve back into the skillet. This creates a thickening agent for the sauce.
Discard the larger pieces of garlic and shallot left in the sieve. Repeat until you have processed all the garlic and shallot.
Whisk the pan juice to emulsify. It should be slightly thickened, and have a cream-like texture. Add salt and pepper to taste.