Rustic Roasted Garlic Chicken with Asiago Gravy

Rustic Roasted Garlic Chicken with Asiago Gravy

I stumbled across this recipe in a dog-eared cookbook I'd borrowed from my neighbor (and never returned—sorry, Jen!). The minute I pulled this chicken out of the oven, my tiny apartment filled with a smell so incredible that my husband actually stopped watching the game to wander in and ask what that "amazing smell" was. When my mother-in-law asked for the recipe TWICE during dinner, I knew I'd found my holy grail chicken dish!

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Ingredients Equipment Method

Ingredients

1 whole chicken 1.8-2 kg/4-4.5 pounds – whatever fits your budget and isn't still frozen because you forgot to thaw it (been there!)
4 whole garlic heads – yes HEADS, not cloves. Go big or go home!
45 ml 3 tablespoons olive oil – the one that doesn't have the layer of dust on it
15 g 1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, chopped – those little pine needle-looking things
15 g 1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves – the tiny leaves that get stuck under your fingernails
15 g 1 tablespoon fresh sage, chopped – those velvety leaves that smell like Thanksgiving
12 g 2 teaspoons salt – more than you think you need, less than would give your doctor a heart attack
8 g 1½ teaspoons black pepper – freshly ground if you're not too lazy to twist the grinder
1 lemon quartered – use that slightly wrinkly one in the fruit bowl
1 onion quartered – no need for pretty cuts, it's just going inside the chicken where no one will see it
120 ml ½ cup white wine – something you'd actually drink (I use "cooking wine" from the glass already in my hand)
For the Asiago Gravy aka Liquid Gold:
45 g 3 tablespoons butter – the real stuff, not that "I can't believe it's not" nonsense
30 g ¼ cup all-purpose flour – yes, the one with the mysterious crusty bits around the rim of the container
480 ml 2 cups chicken broth – homemade if you're that person, store-bought if you're me
120 ml ½ cup white wine – see above about "cooking wine"
120 g 1 cup grated Asiago cheese – pre-grated works but freshly grated is worth the knuckle scrapes
120 ml ½ cup heavy cream – because we're living our best lives here
Salt and pepper to taste – you know your sodium tolerance better than I do

Equipment

A roasting pan with a rack (that wedding gift you rarely use is finally getting its moment!)
Some small oven-safe dish for the garlic (I use that chipped Pyrex that's too sentimental to throw away)
Aluminum foil (the answer to all kitchen problems)
Kitchen twine (or honestly, that clean cotton string from your junk drawer works just fine—been there!)
Meat thermometer (absolute non-negotiable unless you enjoy playing chicken roulette with your digestive system)
Medium saucepan (the one that doesn't have that weird burnt spot on the bottom)
Whisk (or fork if you're in a "where are all my utensils?!" situation)
Measuring cups and spoons (eyeballing it is for the brave)
Knife and cutting board (the less dull one, please)
Fine mesh strainer (totally optional—I use this maybe 10% of the time when I'm feeling fancy or my mom is coming over)

Method

Preparing the Chicken and Garlic
Crank your oven to 200°C (400°F). This is hot enough to get that skin crackly but not so hot that your smoke detector gets involved (again).
Grab those garlic heads and chop the tops off like you're beheading tiny vampires. Nestle 3 heads in a baking dish, drizzle with olive oil (be generous—this isn't the time for that diet you've been meaning to start), and cover with foil. Set these aside for their spa treatment.
Take your chicken and remove that weird paper package of mystery parts from the cavity. You know, the one you always forget about until you're halfway through cooking? Just me? Pat that bird dry with paper towels like it just ran a marathon. The drier the skin, the crispier it gets—it's science, people!
Mix up your herb blend. This is where your kitchen transforms from "where did the dog throw up?" to "is there a 5-star restaurant in here?" If you want to feel fancy, chop those herbs with your biggest knife on a wooden board while making that chef-y rocking motion. If you're like me on a Tuesday, just hack at them with kitchen scissors directly over the bowl.
Now for the weird part—stick your fingers between the chicken skin and meat to create a pocket. Yes, it feels exactly as gross as you're imagining. Try not to tear the skin, but if you do, nobody will know but you and the chicken. The first time I did this, my 5-year-old walked in and yelled "MOMMY'S GIVING THE CHICKEN A MASSAGE!" and honestly, that's not inaccurate.