You know a properly roasted chicken earns you the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval, right?

Today my friend Maryanne and I were talking about roasting chicken, and it inspired me to put a few thoughts down on the subject.

I love roast chicken.

There are so many ways to go about it and I feel like I've barely begun to explore the options. However, every time Russ Parsons (my favorite LA Times food authority) or pretty much anyone else writes about it, I pay close attention. My current go-to chicken roasting method is based on trial and error, a bit of this and a bit of that from cookbooks and food writers, and a great insight from Russ Parsons. When feeling adventurous I try methods and seasonings I find in my various exotic cookbooks; but on regular days I do this:

First of all, start with a good chicken. This means preferably organic, and definitely not pumped full of saline. You aren't going to need that crutch if you roast the bird right, and saline just messes up the texture and nutrition benefits of said bird.

After rinsing and drying the chicken, massage olive oil into all the skin. I always feel a little self-conscious in this step, since the chicken has the heft and feel of a small baby. But I am a carnivore, and I just remind myself that taking care of the bird is the best way to honor it. It needs to be treated with TLC and respect.

Sprinkle sea salt and cracked pepper over the whole bird. A little Tony Chachere's never hurts. It's my go-to for all sorts of seasoning opportunities. Throw a little salt into the cavity and stuff in some garlic cloves (no need to peel), lemon wedges, and a bunch of fresh herbs (I love the combination of sage, rosemary, and thyme. They grow in a planter right next to my front door; I have to keep using them or they’ll overtake the space). I don't even bother to close up the opening half the time, although I have a nifty spiral doo-dad that makes it pretty easy.

I place the chicken in a roasting pan on a rack if I'm feeling ambitious and want to haul the thing out of the closet; otherwise it goes in my Corningware oval dish, which I like because it's just big enough to contain the bird.

Pop in the oven at 250 degrees. That's right--250. Sloooow roasting takes a little longer but so worth it. This doesn't toughen up the protein strands, and the bird stays tender naturally (this is the most important thing I learned from Russ Parsons). Insert a thermometer between the thigh and breast and when it's about 140 switch the oven to convection heat and crank it up to 400 or so. That gives the skin its nice crispy crust. Within 10-15 minutes the internal temp should be 165-170, which is hot enough to please most careful cooks (some insist on 180; many chefs consider 160 to be the perfect temp; for me 170 is fine but I have let it go too long and taken it out at 180, and with this method the breast meat still wasn’t dried out. Parsons actually starts the bird out at high heat and switches to low as soon as the skin is brown; he says low-to-high is preferable but he can’t determine exactly the moment to switch from low to high to achieve the final internal temperature and perfect brownness at exactly the same time. Since I’m not as picky about exact internal temperature—I like mine roasted a bit hotter than he does—I go with the order he says is ideal for tenderness. It requires paying closer attention to the roasting bird—you do need to catch it at 140 to turn up the heat and get the skin properly brown—but unlike Parsons I’m not making a lot of fa-la-la dishes to go with it, and can give my attention to the roasting bird).

Take the chicken out and let stand (under foil if you wish) for at least 20-30 minutes. Don't touch it. Let the juice reabsorb into the meat while you make the rest of your meal. Then, remove the bird and use the drippings to make yummy gravy (want the recipe?). The chicken will be beautifully brown on the outside, and tender on the inside, ready to perch proudly on your favorite platter or be carved into a heap of gorgeous goodness.

PS: this method works pretty well for turkey, too. I use another of Russ Parson’s ideas and, while the turkey is sitting out on the counter coming to room temperature, I strap a bag of ice to the breast area to keep it nice and cold, right until I pop the bird in the (250 degree) oven. I also place a folded pad of aluminum foil over the breast for a while. The dark meat has to roast for so long in comparison; this keeps the breast from overheating and drying out. You have to factor in more roasting time (sorry, I don’t have a conversion table to guide you—I just start early enough that I know it’ll finish in time).