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Forks, Portland, Lyon - France, Paris - France, Portland and ending up in Bellingham.... the adventures of my life!

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Sunday, March 27, 2011

What-What: Holy Roasted Chicken

I was in high spirits yesterday morning after a great tutoring session and a beautiful sunny day.  I decided to use my getting fluent French and glide through the marché in a Julia Childesque fashion.  I pulled out my big ol' plastic bag and began slowly marching through the vendors, eyeballing the goods and smiling at the sellers.  The first thing I purchased was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen;

Le poulet rôti; or the roasted chicken.

In the marchés in France there are often 2 or so vendors with large portable roasting machines and about 50 chickens spinning at snail pace speed gettting a crispy skin and perfecting the art of the roast chicken.  Nothing added to the flavors, a little rub of some salt to start and the chickens get based throughout the roasting (of about 3-4 hours) and the smell is so enticing.

I couldn't resist when the marché man, who looks as if he'd been roasting chicken for years shouted:  "Poulet rôti, poulet rôti!  Seulement sept-euro et cinquante centimes!  Chaud!"  I stopped right in my tracks and ordered one on the spot.

"Venez avec moi, nous le choisisserons ensembles" he smiled back,  I followed him to a pile of roasted chickens and pointed to the darkest most crispiest skinned one.  "Celui-là" I pointed.

He wrapped it into a liquid proof bag, "Voulez-vous du jus, madamoiselle?"  I nodded, "Mais oui! Bien sûr!"  he deflt dipped the spoon into the pile of grease and piled into the bag.

A quick little tie, a smile, exchange of cash and I was off.

"Bonne journée et bonne weekend!" I said after taking my bag of meat.

The magic happened when I got home and decided to test a little piece- just to see what the fuss was all about.  I took the chicken out of his shelter and pulled a little on the leg, *POP* the meat fell right off the bone, I took a little nibble... holy roasted chicken... it was the best thing I had ever eaten... it was the true taste of a chicken without the fancy rubbings.  Better than the set it and forget it my parents used, this was not only a well roasted chicken but a happy chicken.

I ate a leg and I was in heaven... I was so pleased to know that tonight I will be having leftovers.

My recommendation- go to the marché on the quai St. Antoine on a Saturday and find the chicken dude who's in the center of the place... best chicken dude EVER.

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