So yes, I have left the rotisserie well alone for the last few years. But then I spotted a tweet on Twitter from Helen of Food Stories, bemoaning that a flat she was hoping to rent had fallen through. Not so much worried about that the fact she needed a roof over head, Helen's main beef was that the prospective new accommodation had an oven with a rotisserie and that all the various opportunities for rotisserrisationing has been snatched away from her. Well, that is indeed a fine display of foodie credentials. Here is someone who couldn't give a flying fig about where she lived, just so long as she had a spit to cook with. Bravo to that cave woman.
And it got me thinking, I really should have another crack at using my rotisserie again. So I went out and bought another chicken this weekend and this time, made sure that everything was fastened in place. The result? Well it reminded me just how brilliant a rotisserie can be. Who needs to worry about dried out, cardboard flesh when you have a device that enables continuous basting, keeping everything succulent and moist? Why did I let that first time put me off? Sure, my guilty feet have got no rhythm and though it's easy to pretend, I know I'm not a fool. Especially when I came up with the idea of sticking some spuds to roast underneath to catch all those lovely juices. No, I am now going to expand my repertoire of rotisserrisationing and am already thinking about recreating one of those elephant leg, lamb doners that you lust after on a Saturday night. Using quality meat of course, although I might have to up end the oven.
This is just the beginning.
Sizzling spuds in chicken juices
Je t'aime mon poulet chaud (NSFW)