Roasted Honey Mustard Chicken

Four weeks since I submitted. The database timeline said four to six months. I know this. I keep having to remind myself of this. My brain is a bad calculator when it is emotionally invested.

Spring came for real this week. Seattle did its Seattle-spring thing where it drizzles for forty-eight straight hours and then one morning the sky is unreasonable blue and everyone in Capitol Hill is outside in shorts, pretending they are acclimated, shivering. James and I walked to the Volunteer Park Conservatory on Sunday and sat on the bench near the tulip beds and did not talk about anything heavy. He told me about a product launch at Microsoft that is going sideways because someone up the chain keeps adding features and the engineering team is mutinying, and I listened and gave him my engineer's perspective — cut the features, miss the deadline, ship the thing — and he said, "Yeah. I know. I have to say it in a meeting in a way that doesn't sound like that." I said, "Can you fake a slide deck about it?" He said, "I am a product manager. I can fake anything with a slide deck."

I made samgyetang on Friday. The whole chicken stuffed with glutinous rice, ginseng, jujubes, garlic, simmered for two hours. It is the dish Koreans eat in the summer heat to restore energy, which makes no sense in the Pacific Northwest in March but I was tired and I wanted it and the supermarket had whole chickens. James watched me stuff the chicken and said, "This is the most Korean I have ever seen you." I said, "I know. It's disorienting." I meant it in a good way. The more I cook like this, the more I feel like I am inhabiting a self that was waiting for me. It is not a self I was raised into. It is a self I am building, one dish at a time, out of technique and ingredient and intention. A self I am choosing.

Kevin called on Tuesday. He has a new sponsor at his AA meetings, a man in his sixties named Frank who was a welder and is now retired and who, Kevin says, is the kind of man you want in your corner when you are trying not to use. Kevin said, "I've got my year coming up in April. Thirteen months. I think I might make it this time." He never says he is going to make it. He always says he thinks he might. I respect that. The humility of the addict who has lost the belief in declarations.

Dr. Yoon this week pushed me a little. She said, "What do you want to say to her if you get the call?" I started crying in her office for the first time in months. I didn't have an answer. I said, "I want to say I'm not angry. And I want to say why did you do it. And I want to say thank you and I want to say how could you and I want to say I love you even though I don't know you." Dr. Yoon said, "All of those can be true." I knew she would say that. I still needed to hear it.

Samgyetang is the recipe this week. Slow, simple, medicinal. A dish for bodies that are tired. A dish for people who are waiting.

I made samgyetang this week, and I will keep making it — but the recipe I want to leave you with is this roasted honey mustard chicken, because it asks something similar of you: patience, a whole bird, and the willingness to let heat do the slow, quiet work. It is the kind of dish you put in the oven when you are tired and do not want to think too hard, when you need the house to smell like something is happening even if everything else feels suspended. That is exactly where I am right now, and this chicken — simple, golden, a little sweet — met me there.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 20 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 30 minutes | Servings: 4–6

Ingredients

1 whole chicken (3 1/2 to 4 lbs), giblets removed
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 lemon, halved
4 sprigs fresh rosemary or thyme (optional, for cavity)

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 425°F (220°C). Pat the chicken dry thoroughly with paper towels — this is what gives you the golden skin.
Make the glaze. In a small bowl, whisk together the Dijon mustard, honey, olive oil, minced garlic, salt, pepper, thyme, and smoked paprika until smooth and combined.
Season the chicken. Squeeze one lemon half over the outside of the chicken. Stuff the cavity with the spent lemon halves and fresh herb sprigs if using. Rub the honey mustard glaze evenly over the entire surface of the bird, including under the breast skin where you can reach.
Roast. Place the chicken breast-side up in a roasting pan or cast iron skillet. Roast uncovered for 1 hour to 1 hour 20 minutes, until the juices run clear and an instant-read thermometer inserted in the thickest part of the thigh reads 165°F. If the skin begins to brown too quickly, tent loosely with foil after 45 minutes.
Rest before carving. Remove the chicken from the oven and let it rest uncovered for at least 10 minutes before carving. This lets the juices redistribute. Do not skip this step.
Serve. Carve and serve with pan drippings spooned over the top. Good alongside roasted vegetables, steamed rice, or a simple green salad.

Nutrition (per serving)

Roasted Honey Mustard Chicken — A Dish for Bodies That Are Tired