Now I feel like (a) jerk.
The last time Jennifer asked me to guest post, it was February and it was Cold As Hell and she was on a tropical island and I was crying frozen tears back in the Pioneer Valley. This time, she’s in cool, refreshing Maine, sitting on a porch with seagulls wheeling overhead and a gentle ocean breeze fluttering through her hair and I’m, again, back in the Pioneer Valley, only right now, it is 104F with a dew point of 70 (which is apparently EXTREMELY HIGH) and every time I walk outside it’s like being punched in the face with a boiling swamp fist and frankly, it’s worse than the last time, because the thought of cooking anything in my non-airconditioned kitchen makes me want to barf. I hadn’t really considered that factor when I agreed to this.
At any rate, nobody wants to read about barf on a food blog, so I went into the crazy mixed up files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler-Coconut and fished out this fully formed photo essay from a year ago that I had thrown together for some internet friends. As it says on the discount vegetable cart at the Stop and Shop, “Not our best, but still a good bargain!” I hope you enjoy it. It is not very word intensive, but it is too goddamned hot for words anyway.
So, I wanted to make some jerk chicken. I have a great recipe, but I wanted to get organic, free range chicken and eight assorted pieces of that is damned expensive, Jack.
I decided to buy a whole chicken and cut it up myself, which I had never done before.
The staging area:
My extremely sharp paring knife:
The directions for getting the legs off were not really clear. They are off:
But this doesn’t seem like a professional job:
The wings were much easier:
Chicken Torso would be a good name for a band:
I used my kitchen shears to take out the spine:
Then I cut up the thighs and breasts. I was covered in raw chicken at this point, so I didn’t take pictures.
The leftovers, mmmmmm:
Voila, eight piece bucket:
Now, the marinade.
Some green onions fresh from the CSA:
These are worth a second look:
Two habenero peppers. Put on some gloves, son. Don’t be a hero:
Soy sauce, lime juice, salt, sugar, allspice, mustard, thyme, cinnamon, and two bay leaves with the ribs cut out:
Throw it all in the processor, add two cloves of garlic. Looks good:
Marinate that chicken for 12-24 hours.
Hot off the grill. Really hot.
1 cup scallions/green onions
2 habeneros (or to taste) ribbed and seeded
2 tablespoons tamari
2 tablespoons lime juice
1 tablespoon salt
5 teaspoons allspice
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons ground mustard
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon thyme
2 bay leaves, ribbed and crumbled
2 cloves garlic