The Butcher: Your budget's best friend

Unless you're sleeping under your brownstone, you're aware of New York City's latest sex symbol: The Butcher. And I've just joined the fan club.

Read on, and before you know it you'll skip past the plastic wrap-sealed loins and chops for a meet-and-greet with the the meat conoisseur in dashing whites, too.

I have no shame in admitting that Julia Childs and Julie Powell are better women than I. On any night of the week, I'm not about to come home, grab my cleaver, and go at it with whatever carcass lies before me. And why should I when there's an excellent, rock star-of-a-butcher in each NYC neighborhood, along with plenty of men in white behind most supermarket butcher counters. With a simple request, your local butcher can transform a plain ole cut of meat or poultry into something totally new and memorable.

This is just what I did when, faced with the task of cooking for Mike's parents, I took my first stab at chicken under a brick. I wouldn't often recommend trying out something new on one such a crowd, but, there is some logic to this weighty decision:
- I knew the centerpiece of the menu would have to be something comforting, hearty, and roast-like to win over the invitees at hand
- I was bored-to-tears with my usual whole-roasted chicken with lemon wedges and garlic
- Sure, I'd love to make rack of lamb or a crown roast, but then I would have to forfit this month's cable, and I am just too addicted to True Blood

And that's how your butcher becomes your best friend. With the simple query, "Can you take out the backbone of a 3 pound chicken?", a regular chicken dinner is transformed into a surprising entree, made delicious by the genius technique of cooking chicken under a brick wrapped in aluminum foil.

Serves four, based on Tyler Florence's Brick Chicken with Apricot Couscous

3 pound chicken, butterflied down the backbone
3 tbsp. cinnamon
3 tbsp. paprika
2 tbsp. garlic salt
2 tbsp. cumin
2 tbsp. cayenne pepper
generous amount of salt
olive oil
brick wrapped in aluminum foil and cast iron skillet (or, follow same steps using a smaller skillet as a weight)

- In a small bowl, combine spices. In a small pan on low heat, stir spices for 2 minutes, or until fragrant.
- Wash and dry butterflied chicken.
- Place chicken into a glass dish. Cover with spices on breast side and within cavity. Let sit, covered in refrigerator overnight.
- 1 hour before cooking, remove chicken from refrigerator, so it can come to room temperature.
- Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
- Heat a heavy skillet to medium-high heat. Place chicken breast side down into skillet and cover with brick or a smaller skillet. Let cook for 20 minutes. The pan will be sizzling, but let the method do its trick, worry-free.
- Using a large spatula, and tongs in the other hand if necessary, turn the chicken, and place brick/skillet to cover, and sear on the other side for 15 minutes more.
- Place into oven for 20 minutes, or until cooked through. (Feel free to pierce the bird along the bone to check for doneness).
- Remove chicken. Let sit for 15 minutes, and carve.

The whole method of "brick chicken" relies on the brick, of course. This weight makes sure that the chicken is in direct contact with the pan, rather than with the fatty cooking liquids released while a chicken cooks, so that the skin has no choice but to caramelize into a crispy, irresistible exterior. Plus, I was able to stay shmaltz-free before joining my guests à table, because the chicken is much easier to carve when butterflied.

The spices pair perfectly with a quick yogurt sauce, which when served family style, guests can garnish their chicken pieces, as desired:

Mint yogurt sauce:
18 oz. yogurt (use full fat yogurt or a Greek-style yogurt, like my amour: Fage)
a generous bunch of fresh mint, roughly chopped
1/8 cup olive oil
salt and freshly-cracked pepper

- Mix all ingredients in a small bowl. Store covered in fridge until serving as a condiment.
(Leftover sauce makes a great marinade for lamb!)

Whether you choose to enjoy this Moroccan-style meal tableside or on pillows, your mecca of the moment will be your neighborhood butcher stall.