Saturday morning, I got a call from Jim Dunlop at TLC Ranch, asking me if I was going to the farmers market. He said he'd bring me one of the newest batches of chickens he's been raising on the clabbered milk from Claravale Dairy. He promised that this would be even better than anything I'd last year, and was pretty excited about the flavor.
"These clean more easily than any birds I've ever raised, because they're so healthy. No ingrown feathers: nothing but easy."
Who am I to turn down a free chicken? (Actually, it isn't free: they need a website and I'm happy to do a trade.) I took Logan: we went to the market and got our bird. And I got to hold and dandle (a damn good word) sweet and blond little Fiona, Jim and Becky's baby girl while Jim and Becky went off to check out the market. Oh, that Fiona is a sugar crystal. She is so sweet, she is so sparkly.
The minute I opened the bag with the chicken, I could see its quality, and it only got better. While not exactly dry to the touch, the bird wasn't wet. Slightly moist outside, but barely. I towel-dried it inside and out, and set about roasting it in the Cuisinart 175BC Convection Toaster Oven that I still love almost as much as my Macintosh computers.
With a large Meyer lemon (pricked with a fork) and rosemary sprigs inside, I spritzed the chicken with lemon olive oil. I drizzled a couple of teaspoons melted butter (Strauss Family Creamery) all over it, and gave it a light dusting with sea salt and ground peppercorns (four-color blend: black, white, green, and pink). Started breast-side down with the convection oven at 375 degrees, and let it cook for fifteen minutes. Then I reduced the heat to 350, and turned the chicken right side up until it was done. No basting was needed, but I checked every now and again to make sure it wasn't getting too browned. (I'm still figuring out the convection business.)
A further indication of the quality of this bird was the aroma in the house. It was noticeably different in quality, and it was heavenly. Logan noticed it and asked me, "What yoooo cooking, Nana?" We sampled the skin: perfect. Crispy and tender. When I pulled the skin away from the breast, to give Logan a taste of it, my eyes widened. I've never seen a chicken so perfect in my life. The only word I can think of is "integrity" to describe it. The flesh (as you can see above) is so perfectly colored, and smooth—that smoothness translated into flavor on the fork. Forgive the redundancy: how often does one encounter perfection in a chicken?
This chicken is a marvel. The clabbered milk, organic feed, and the fresh components from scratching in a pasture (grass, greens, bugs, and sand—all out there in the wide open spaces at TLC Ranch) had come together in nature to help create a bird that I seriously doubt could be improved upon. The milkyness inherent in the flesh made me wonder if it wouldn't be difficult to overcook this bird. You can see from the photo of the entire chicken that breast and thighs browned evenly.
The flavor was the best chicken flavor I have ever tasted in my life, and I include in that any chicken ever served to me at any restaurant on the planet. I suppose I could have left out the lemon and rosemary, to make it as plain as possible, but neither of these components, which could be used to mask the flavor of a lesser bird (or a piece of crap from Foster Farms, for example) did anything but act as the barest perfume to an already perfect entity. Sort of like a rose behind the ear of a beautiful woman.
PERFECT bird. Perfect.
Jim's got high hopes, and deservedly so, though he's having to adjust his business to include fewer deliveries (none to San Francisco) because of the cost of gas and the expenditure of his time.
• • • • • • • • • • •
I blew off the Eat Local Challenge on Sunday and Monday, for the most part, as I had to travel to a surprise wedding in San Diego for Nikki: the prettiest, most stylish (no, I don't mean stylized and self-conscious and expensive and gaudy and designery) wedding I've ever seen. She pulled it off in a little over two weeks, and oh, it was a joy. (Being the best wedding photographer in San Diego, and working with the best pros, surely helped her, as everyone outdid themselves to help. In fact, there were so many fancy cameras at the wedding, I am certain people must have thought her very rich or very famous.) Held at the very beautiful La Valencia Hotel in La Jolla, where the wedding reception luncheon and, later, wedding dinner were consumed, I hadn't a chance to ask what was local and what was not. I did as the Romans do...though I fully intend to write the chef and ask what in the hell he's thinking, offering Chilean sea bass on the menu.
We had a lavish meal that I won't go into, except the funny part. The menu contained multiple bottles of wine that were in the thousands of dollars. I was reading some of the names and prices out loud, to shock and amuse, and the groom's father said something in Turkish and started laughing. Nikki's husband, Koray, laughing translated for his father: "My father wants you to be careful that you are not actually ordering these wines."
I did consume some mulberries and part of a peach at Seabreeze Farm, which I revisited on Monday afternoon. I also visited La Milpa Organica Farm in Encinitas, and you can look forward to pictures and stories from both visits.
• • • • • • • • • • •
THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY:
"Don't marry the person you think you can live with; marry only the individual you think you can't live without." — James C. Dobson
"Only choose in marriage a man whom you would choose as a friend if he were a woman."
— Joseph Joubert
"Often the difference between a successful marriage
and a mediocre one consists of leaving about three or four things a day
unsaid."
— Harlan Miller
Which I did earlier tonight. (Left something unsaid on the phone.)
The title of this post reflects the integrity of both TLC Ranch methods for raising healthy meat, and Nikki and Koray's marriage. Long may they ALL live and prosper.
Thanks for visiting.
tana, i love reading your accounts. you are truly a piece of farm spirit community! i can hear your voice in the words. love and miss you!
Posted by: Natalie | 23 May 2006 at 11:52 PM
This sounds like the long lost chicken of our forefathers. Clabbered milk, free-range pastured. . . .But what have they done to get the skin so dry? What breed are they raising?
I always dry-pluck my chickens, which is more work, but the skin stays nicer and they last longer in the fridge before you cook them. Aging a freshly butchered chicken a day or two before it is cooked or frozen helps make it tender and nicer to cook too.
I am currently embarking on a breeding program to get a big-ish, but slow to mature roasting chicken. I've had it with the standard meat-breeds. They grow too fast and consume too much feed and aren't range appropriate.
Thanks for this blog and your insights into your local farm scene.
Posted by: Podchef | 24 May 2006 at 07:34 AM
Um, okay. So, how do I get mine?
I got a 'portable' convection rig too. I use it mostly for crisping up dishes and when I need the space.
I think I'm too used to my old Wedgewood to convert over.
My chickens are more than dried, salted in and out. Trussed and tossed in to a 450 degree oven for 1 hour. Always resting on a trivet so the dark meat can get even heat and cook on time.
This gives me with my Rosie chickens the same words coming out of my mowf. OH man, the chicken wings are like candy. However, with one of TLC's fine birds? I think I could take up a few levels. The thought makes me giddy.
Thank you so much for giving us a peek in to what could very well be a possible produce not too very far in the future.
Biggles
Posted by: Dr. Biggles | 24 May 2006 at 02:57 PM
Loved reading this. I've been struggling with the desire to raise my own broilers for...oh, years now! I've kept hens for eggs, and just for watching them scratch around. Thanks for the additional "food for thought."
Posted by: Belinda | 25 May 2006 at 12:28 PM
My Buddy is milking a cow getting plenty of raw milk. Has tried to make clabbered milk by leaving on counter and waiting, like he thought his mom did. The milk goes bad. This is raw milk with its cream. What is he doing wrong. Thanks Marvin
Posted by: Marvin M. Cox | 31 March 2007 at 12:21 PM