Inta Bhai’s Roast Murghi – Roast Chicken

It’s been a fun week. I’ve grappled with attempts to re-christen a family favourite, remake it in less time and more efficient ways; debated what to name the new version; explored its innovative origins; and ended up knee deep in Roast Chicken. (Don’t laugh, what are freezers for — and it will all be put to good use!) But first things first: let me start with the re-christening.  My sons named this dish Inta Bhai’s Roast Murghi, after our family cook extraordinaire, Inta, who used to create this melt in your mouth Roast Chicken that’s spicy, but not really spicy. It isn’t your typical English Sunday Roast Chicken or bold and tangy, like tandoori chicken, either.

We’d have it with roast potatoes, just delicious, mint and cucumber raita, a bhaaji, plain rice, and ghee daal, smooth, buttery lentils, to pour over the rice. It used to be the kind of meal a family never forgets. (My next post will be sides that go with Roast Chicken, I promise).

But the problem is, Inta had all day. First he would truss a whole chicken. I tried it this week and suffice it to say that a bird is slippery, even when lying inert on your kitchen counter. (I caught it in time though, haha). He’d sear the whole chicken evenly in a pan of sizzling ghee, not alarmed by it spitting at him, add ground onions, ginger, garlic, old fashioned English mustard, mace, nutmeg, a dash of tomato puree (or ketchup), and slow cook the lot as a pot roast, with home made chicken stock. He’d add halved, seared potatoes, lemon juice and a dash of sugar toward the end. Did I mention that it was memorable.

But this week, I balked. Pot roasts keep the steam in and the meat is moist. Getting an oven to do the same thing won’t be easy. And do it in what, half the time? Okay let’s go for it, I decided. Several Roast Chickens later, I had a smile the size of a jalebi. I’d made Inta’s Roast Murghi, as close to the original as he would have approved of, if I do say so myself.

Of course, what almost derailed me was time. You cannot rush the process of reducing the roasting sauce. Cook it well, with a little patience. You need it to season the chicken. Or, as I have to confess I did more than once, don’t overcook the chicken. The name of the game (how I love my puns) is moist but roasted –breast, thigh and leg pieces, all to the same degree.

One way of ensuring your bird roasts evenly is to dress it differently by (poor thing) flattening or spatchcocking, which is a European medieval term, apparently from “dispatching the cock” which means to remove a sliver of bone along the entire back, then press down on the breast bone, so that you butterfly the chicken. The process seems far more complicated than it is, truly, as you’ll see. I used the same skillet to sear the bird and the potatoes, reduce the roasting sauce, and then it went in a roasting dish, first the chicken and then the potatoes. I stuck it in the oven and caught up with my email while it roasted. Took about an hour to prep and 45 minutes to roast, tops.

What made my expedition a lot of fun was to tease out origins. You know how much history fascinates me, about how things begin and how they change over time. If you’ve ever wondered who invented the first roast, I think it was a woman, an early hominid or human, who saw an open fire and thought why not put dinner on it and see what happens, maybe the children will like it – and everyone came out of their caves and said whoa, what’s that incredible flavour, is that meat, and they called it kab, to burn, and it later became kabbaba in ancient Babylon and from there into Arab, Persian, Turkish worlds as kebab, and onwards, into tandoors and ovens, as an all-round popular way of cooking.

Of course every meat that’s roasted is not a kebab. This recipe marries different worlds and could be a main course in a colonial setting, like a gentlemen’s club in India under the British Raj. Picture it: a drawing room with high ceilings, rotating fans cooling the air, tables with starched white tablecloths, and liveried waiters, called “bearers” –yes, borderline pejorative, if you ask me – serving imperial officers their Sunday Roast Chicken on posh china.

What fascinates me is the ways in which South Asian adaptations emerged at the hands of colonial chefs. The head chef, usually male, in kitchens across South Asia is called khan-saama, a title derived from the far more important Khan-i-Saaman, Steward of the Emperor’s Household, originating in 16th century Mughal India. Inta trained under several chefs in old Dhaka before my grandma found him and trained him to become a khan-saama himself. It was all part of a rich tradition of apprentice cooks who learned on the job, creating and innovating as they blended different traditions with local ingredients, guided by their own, discerning desi palates. If I wore a hat, I’d tip it to all of them, especially Inta, to say a grateful thank you.

The spices in this dish are selective, and there’s no heat, no garam (hot) masala and red chillies, and the final product is low key, like dusk. If I wanted to rename it, I would call it Inta’s Deliciously Postcolonial Roast Chicken. It won’t explode on your tongue but rather grow on you, as a flavour you haven’t visited before and hopefully, want to enjoy again, and again.

Likely questions: 

1. What sides go best with this Roast Chicken? Raita, vegetables, rice with daal, or naan. Watch my blog for the next post on sides!
2. Can I sear and roast in a skillet? I start with a skillet, then transfer to a roasting pan; a shallow Dutch oven works as well. 
3. Can I substitute ground onions with sliced onions? If you have no option, cook sliced onions in the oil, with water or stock, cover and simmer, mush together to make a paste before adding the other spices. The same goes for garlic and ginger: ground is best, or make a paste in the skillet.
4. Do I have to cook the chicken skin on? South Asians generally don’t like the skin, but I find it’s easier to sear, but season it well. If you take the skin off, sear the chicken carefully, for fewer minutes so that it doesn’t burn. 
5. How do I make chicken stock at home? Boil say 200 grams or 7 ounces chicken bones, with 1 small sliced apple, 6 peppercorns, ½ inch fresh sliced ginger, in 4 cups water for 1 – 2 hours, strain and store in fridge. I don’t add salt. 

Spatchcock or flatten chicken:

Use kitchen shears or a sturdy pair of scissors. Lay your chicken breast side down on a cutting board. Feel the backbone going down the middle of the bird. Place your scissors about an inch to the side of the backbone, at the bottom, and cut all the way to the top. Do the same thing on the other side of the backbone. Lift up the sliver of the backbone; save it to make stock later. Open up, flatten, flip breast side up, press down on the breast bone. And you’re done! 

Sear chicken & set aside:

Make roasting sauce:

Season with roasting sauce, place in oven:

Photo Credit

All Photos by: Almas Zakiuddin SOME RIGHTS RESERVED