I consider myself to be a fairly adventurous cook – fearless when it comes to taking on complex projects, thrilled by the prospect of tapping into a new cuisine, and unbothered by recipes that call for all the pots, pans, and gadgets in my kitchen. So why, when it comes to roasting a chicken, have I become a creature of habit? Time and again, when the situation calls for a bird, I’m making this slow-roasted piri piri chicken, a guaranteed show stopper primed for meal prep or dinner parties. I have zero complaints about this recipe, except that I’ve made it scores of times. It exists in my comfort zone, a zone where the result is a known quantity, and the quantity is unquantifiably delicious. It’s a zone where I know I’ll be getting tender fall-off-the-bone meat and bones to make a stock with and leftovers for lunch. With these three requirements in mind, a whole chicken in my fridge, much less time than ol’ faithful’s recipe calls for, and just enough bravery, I delved into new territory and lived to tell the tale.
This recipe is a spin on an Alison Roman diddy from her first cookbook, which is one that I can’t help but come back to time and again for unfussy millennial takes on American classics. Indeed, the resulting dish does look and feel like something my grandma, the late great original chicken influencer in my life, used to make. It’s simple comfort food that espouses the merits of a one-pot meal – a concept I’ve been a years-long skeptic of, but am now coming around to not for its pragmatism, but because of its unabashed incorporation of shmaltz. In this one, we butcher a whole chicken into parts (a power move!), brown it in a heavy-bottomed pan (close all the windows and inhale deeply for this step), toast farro in the melted fat (when it comes to shmaltz, waste not, want not), and add the chicken back in with vinegar and water and slow cook the whole thing until its dinner, stirring some greens in at the end for good measure. It’s a modest dish for sure – no fancy ingredients or cheffy techniques, but like the best home-cooked meals, it transforms into something greater than the sum of its parts and instantly became a dish I could see myself cooking well into my grandma years.
Ingredients (serves 4)
Whole chicken, cut into quarters (save the back for a small batch of stock)
Kosher salt & black pepper
Olive oil
1 cup farro
5+ cloves garlic, roughly chopped
1 shallot, sliced
1 preserved lemon
1 cup white vinegar
A few big handfuls spinach, watercress, or chopped kale
Season the chicken all over with plenty of salt and pepper.
Heat a few glugs of olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed dutch oven over medium. Brown the chicken, 8-ish minutes per side, and set aside. The skin should be sufficiently browned and crispy and there should be plenty of shmaltz left in the pot.
Add in the garlic, shallot, lemon (if using), and farro and stir to coat it all in fat. Continue stirring it until the garlic and shallots are softened and the farro is releasing a nice nutty aroma, about 5 minutes.
Pour in 4 cups water and 1 cup white vinegar and stir to combine.
Nestle the chicken pieces into the pot, skin side up. Try to leave as much of the skin exposed as possible. Turn the heat to medium-low, cover, and let it braise for 45 minutes.
Remove the top, crank up the heat, and let some of the liquid cook off.
Finally, stir in the greens until wilted. Serve with lemon wedges on a rimmed platter with the farro on the bottom, chicken on the top, and some of the juice poured over the whole thing.