Roasted Chicken-on-a-Stand

Me and my Bastard's (please read on!) first date

Renovating and moving into a new apartment, in a foreign country, is even more traumatic when told your kitchen island will be delayed for weeks due to Coronavirus. I faced the gaping hole where my range, cooktop, and microwave would one day be housed and wondered just how I would feed myself. I am not a fan of takeout or Uber Eats, preferring to eat homecooked meals with known ingredients. I decided an electric hot plate would have to suffice. I peddled my bike to Duikelman, an Amsterdam kitchenware store chock-a-block full of items both common and near-impossible to find. It is here I encountered the Bastard.

Big, heavy, and imposing, the Bastard semi-blocked Duikelman’s entrance, making it impossible to ignore. I eyed it with caution. “Tell me about this,” I said to the store manager. He explained it is the Dutch version of the Big Green Egg, but improved upon, as the Dutch are prone to do. “You can cook everything on it,” he assured me. “Pizza, cold or hot smoked meats, breads, of course steaks.” “Everything?” I asked with a mixture of doubt and curiosity. I have never owned or operated a Big Green Egg, considering them to be a cult item while also content with my Hasty Bake grill and commercial pizza oven. But that was Montana, far away and here I stood, examining this possibility. “It takes a bit to master,” the manager cautioned. “You need to learn the vents, airflow, when to use the grill or heat shield. It takes getting used to, then it’s brilliant.”

I have the time, I thought, and the need to prepare tasty food, so why not? I bought the Bastard and had it delivered, set up on my kitchen terrace, begging to be filled with charcoal and fired up. I already knew my first attempt would be preparing a whole chicken on a stand. I had ridden my bike to my chicken butcher and secured a three-pound chicken, which I had dry rubbed the previous day. Now it was time to cook it.

I poured myself a coffee, sat at my kitchen table, and read “Hot Coals, A User’s Guide to Mastering Your Kamado Grill” by Jeroen Hazebroek and Leonard Elenbaas. One look at the authors’ photo assured me they were up to the task of imparting knowledge and skills. They looked like they could live in a cave, sturdy, hearty, armed with a no-nonsense approach to life. I read about radiation, glow, convection, and direct and indirect cooking. I learned the history of Kamado grills and read through sections on technique and tools. I felt educated and ready to tackle it. I jumped off the high dive. 

I kept the book open for quick reference, filled the firebox as instructed, used the preferred fire starters and…it didn’t light. It smoldered, it flared for a quick wink, I checked to be certain all vents were wide open. I kept re-lighting the starters, recalling Paula Lambert, a food goddess, and guru, telling me she had a handy blow torch for lighting her grill. She’s a big fan of the Big Green Egg. I look forward to the day we cook together on my Bastard and she imparts all sorts of tricks and knowledge. Somehow, though, even with all the accessories I had purchased, I had forgotten the blow torch. After what seemed an eternity, I stoked it up: The Bastard reached 180°C / 360°F. I positioned the chicken on its vertical stand, placed in a drip pan filled with water, on the grill, closed the ridiculously heavy lid, and spent the next hour adjusting the upper and lower vents to maintain the temperature. I found regulating temperature fairly easy: The trick is to reach your desired temperature in the beginning, then simply control it.

An hour later, my chicken was resting on a platter, its heady aroma wafting through the kitchen. I sliced into a juicy, succulent bird with flavor and tenderness beyond description. The dry rub and day in the refrigerator imparted a crispness and richness to the bird, with the sumac providing a hint of citrus undertones. With every morsel, I thought how much I loved the Bastard. Our first date was, I decided, the beginning of a love affair.

Gaping hole where someday my range, cooktop and microwave will be!

Gaping hole where someday my range, cooktop and microwave will be!

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Roasted chicken-on-a-Stand

Serves 2 to 4 depending on sides

1 whole chicken, 2½ to 3½ pounds
1 tablespoon salt
2 teaspoons za’atar
½ teaspoon sumac
½ teaspoon ancho chile powder
¼ teaspoon fresh ground pepper

Directions

  1. The day before you plan on serving, clean and dry chicken. Mix dry ingredients together in a small bowl. Dry rub the chicken inside and out. Place chicken in a nonreactive pan, resting on a paper towel, in the refrigerator. You can place a paper towel over the top of the chicken, but you want air to get to the chicken.

  2. Depending on your grill, light your charcoal approximately 1½ hours to 1¾ hours before you plan on eating. When the coals are ready, place the chicken on a vertical stand, truss the legs with kitchen string, place the stand on a drip pan and fill the pan with water at least a half-inch below the chicken legs. Place pan and chicken in the center of the grill, close the lid, being certain air vents are open so the charcoal stays lit. No need to baste. Let it cook for one hour. Check doneness with a meat thermometer, which should register 160°F in the thickest part of the thigh.

  3. Remove from grill and stand. Cover the chicken and let rest for 10 minutes before carving.

Sally Uhlmann’s passion for cooking led her to publish a memoir-style cookbook, “Just Cook with Sally.” She splits her time between the States and her farmhouse in Cortona, Italy, when she is not traveling the world. Sally cooks, develops recipes, and writes stories—mostly about the intersection of food, travel, and her life.