Back in 2008, I was living in a tiny apartment with an even tinier kitchen. It was the year I truly fell in love with cooking – not the Instagrammable, perfect kind, but the messy, soul-soothing kind. That year, I made this roasted chicken for the first time after a long autumn walk, and it’s been a favorite ever since.
There’s something magical about the way apples soften and sweeten in the oven. Paired with earthy sage and golden roasted shallots, the flavors seep into the chicken, creating a dish that feels both rustic and refined. I love serving it with steamed rice, crusty bread, or even a cheesy casserole to soak up every bit of the pan juices.
Ingredient | Quantity |
---|---|
Whole chicken (about 4 lbs) | 1 |
Apples (firm, like Honeycrisp) | 2, sliced |
Shallots | 6, peeled and halved |
Fresh sage leaves | 10–12 |
Olive oil | 2 tbsp |
Salt & pepper | To taste |
2008, In a Bite
This recipe is a snapshot of simpler days and cozier kitchens. It’s not fancy or complicated, but it’s real food for real people – just like how it all started for me in 2008. It reminds me of the time I first tried a bold espresso pork tenderloin with sweet potato fries, or the evening I made apricot sriracha glazed pork that lit up my small kitchen with heat and citrus.
That first chicken marked the beginning of many flavorful weekends. I’d often follow it up with something experimental like a quinoa cake with asparagus and bacon bits, or take leftover chicken and toss it into a bright salad like my classic Waldorf with a twist.
And when I craved comfort in a bowl, nothing beat a hot serving of loaded baked potato soup. It was the kind of recipe that simmered while I cleaned the kitchen or flipped through an old cookbook. On warmer days, I’d cool things down with a watermelon, ricotta, and mint salad — refreshing, salty, sweet, and simple.
Of course, not every night was so carefully planned. Sometimes dinner meant reheating a slice of deep-dish pizza or whipping up sausage and maize tacos with whatever was left in the fridge. I even surprised myself once with a batch of roasted fig and prosciutto sushi rolls — sweet and savory wrapped in something new.
Snacks mattered just as much as meals. I kept a tin of banana chocolate granola bars on the counter for a midday bite, and when guests dropped by unexpectedly, I’d serve up small plates like fennel and fig salad with honey mustard chicken or prosciutto sandwiches with basil-apple slaw.
By late summer, casseroles made a comeback — especially bold flavors like chickpea and chorizo that filled the whole kitchen with spice. It’s funny how each of these dishes — even the little ones like ricotta pea ravioli — still carry the scent of those early cooking days. And they all started with that chicken.