Emeril Lagasse's Perfect Roast Chicken (10/24)

When I ran across Emeril Lagasse's Perfect Roast Chicken recipe, I couldn't help but hesitate. First, I kind of have a pet peeve against recipes that claim the self-aggrandizing adjective. Second, I was ready to kick my chicken up a notch, but found that the recipe seemed more traditional than not. Come on, where's the New Orleans spice? Third, I was getting a bit tired of herb-infused butter. But Emeril Lagasse is pretty darn famous, and if he can't whip up a chicken worth roasting, then, at the very least, I'd like to know.

So here we go. This here's the rosemary and garlic butter.

I have to say, the chunks of garlic got me pretty excited. And who am I kidding? Rosemary, butter, and chicken are always delicious together.

Next up was a spread of classic French ingredients.

After the typical pat-down, I seasoned the bird, inside and out, with salt and pepper. I squeezed some lemons over the chicken and put the rinds into the cavity.

Two small bay leaves made their way into the cavity before I went on to perform the inevitable herb butter rub-down. I like to think the bird gave me a headless, wink of approval as it bathed in shiny jewels of buttery garlic.

The end product smelled great. The untied legs and the dark pieces of rosemary worried me a bit, but the smell made me look past those worries.

The skin was beautifully crisp with little chunks of garlic and rosemary. The skin had more crack than some of the other chickens I've done, and the meat was more juicy than I thought it would be. The inner-most meat was a little bit dry at parts, but the pan juices worked its magic to moisten those pieces up. The flavor was predictable with little to no effect from the bay leaves. The lemon did make its way through occasionally, but more than anything, this chicken tasted like your run-of-the-mill rosemary and garlic chicken. The vegetables were bland, but were there more to flavor the dippings.

I don't know why, but I'm not a huge fan of pan drippings mixed with a ton of wine. I'd rather use more chicken stock or not even pursue the gravy at all. With almost every chicken I've made, the drippings are flavorful enough on their own.

This wasn't the most mind-blowing chicken I've made, but for what it is, I can see this being a very consistent family staple. As far as a cajun rendition of roast chicken goes, I'm still looking.