I did it. I did my first cook on my Egg. I managed to sneak in a couple of spatchcocked chickens just before a massive tropical storm broke over us.
I don’t mind telling you, it was nerve wracking. Remember to burp, I kept telling myself whenever it came time to turn the birds or move them from indirect to direct cooking. I completely forget to use my wireless thermometers, but luckily my thermopen stepped into the breach. Jane made a kicking’ chili avocado salad so I didn’t have to sweat the sides.
I did two birds, each with a lemon and garlic herb bundle. (Sage, rosemary and oregano, from the garden). But one was seasoned with a basic Italian herb n salt rub, while the other got a touch of fire with sea salt, cumin, paprika, smoked fennel and cloves. The picture is from about halfway through.
Total cook time was about 55 minutes to get to temp, and I rested them under foil for ten.
I am never cooking inside again. They were amazing.
The next day I tried a porchetta. I didn’t bother making it up myself. I’ll get around to that once I feel like I’ve half-sorted out the nuances of the Egg. I didn’t quite get the cracking right on this one, but the flavour profile was perfect, and after an hour’s rest in butcher’s paper inside my purpose-bought esky, it was incredibly tender and moist.
I’m gonna have another crack at both next weekend, as a practice for Christmas.
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