Good Time Chicken
Illustration by Tara Jacoby/GMG.
Recently, we discussed an important question here at
Jezebel.com: What do you eat after sex? Suggestions were
thrown out, debate was had, and conclusions were drawn. But in
response to the poll question “What food goes well with sex?”,
only 9.09 percent of respondents agreed that “an entire roasted
chicken” was the answer.
I’m here to convince the other 90.91 percent of you that it
Much has been made of “Engagement Chicken,” an
allegedly magical roast chicken recipe that will prompt a man
to kneel in front of you in a drafty restaurant and open a
small box that reveals a pear-shaped yellow rock (just one
option; let’s each take our own beautiful path towards or away
from matrimony). Slightly less has been made of “Come Fuck Me Penne à la Vodka,” an also
allegedly magical pasta recipe that will get a man to reveal
his santa-patterned boxer shorts to you one evening, and to
your unsuspecting roommate the next morning (again, we all live
different but equally special lives).
But nothing (that I know of; if the following makes you cry out
in pleasurable recognition, please do so) has been written
about what I will dub here as Good Time Chicken, which is a
roast chicken that does not get you marriage, it does not get
you sex, but it does perfectly time itself around good sex.
Imagine with me, if you will, a cool evening. (This meal does
not work great in the balmy to sweaty months, regardless of
whether or not you have central air.) Your chosen partner has
been wowed by your claim that you can make a damn good roast
chicken with mashed potatoes and a vegetable side of your
choice (asparagus or artichokes if you’re me and it’s also my
birthday so I’m going all out). The recipe I use is one I call
Favorite Chicken, because it is my favorite chicken and I was a
creative child. It is simple: a whole chicken rubbed in olive
oil, salt, pepper, rosemary and lemon juice, with the inside
cavity stuffed with cut lemons and rosemary. It’s a meal that
seems impressive but in actuality, is quite easy to prep.
What’s hard is the waiting, which can be an hour to an hour and
a half depending on the size of the bird.
So you’ve preheated the oven to 475. You’ve prepped the bird.
You’ve put it in the oven for half an hour to get that first
blast of heat.
Now you have sex.
I know, I know. You’re thrown! The meal isn’t over yet, the
foreplay of sexy conversation has not yet happened. But that’s
the brilliance of the Good Time Chicken. You have some time to
kill; those potatoes (or whatever other side you decide to
substitute because again, we’re all out here loving and living)
will take no time at all to make, the green of choice the same.
Use that time for the sex. Don’t wait until after your romantic
but heavy meal—you’re making gravy with those pan drippings
after all—to try to romance one another. Work up even more of
an appetite, and then return to the chicken, reduce the
temperature to 425 (for a bonus, at this point you can throw
some unpeeled garlic cloves into the pan for eating later), and
cook it until it’s done—usually a total of an hour to an hour
and a half—with a new glow to you and an exciting edge added to
But I’m starving, Kate, you’re pleading. I need a
little snack before the dinner. Well, that’s what the
giblets are for. Once you’ve put the chicken in the oven, throw
‘em in a pan with a little olive oil, salt and pepper and sear
them real quick. Split the liver with your chosen partner
because you’re not a monster. Get your sides going, and now
it’s time to turn the temp on the chicken down. THEN go have
sex while your meal finishes cooking. And return to your food
satiated and ready to rock. See? You have options.
The Good Time Chicken. It’s a good time.