For Christmas this year, I got a digital meat thermometer, the kind with a wire that attaches the probe to a fancy digital read out. I thought, “Finally! I can stop undercooking my roast chickens!” Yes, it’s the sad truth: I am a disaster when it comes to roast chicken. I can never manage to cook them all the way through, no matter how long I leave them in the oven, no matter how clear those thigh juices appear to run when I prick them with a fork. I start cutting them up and realize I have to immediately throw them back in the oven, in their half mutilated state. It’s disappointing, and not very photogenic. This digital thermometer was going to change all that.
A few weeks ago, my good friends over at Festivus Gastronomicus had a little moving sale (because unfortunately for everyone in Boston they are heading back to L.A.), and I ended up with their very lovely and large roasting pan. All of the elements converged, and I decided this was the week to roast a chicken. Well something went horribly, horribly wrong.