Millions of pounds of chicken will be cooked over campfires and propane or charcoal-fired grills this summer. More birds will be deep fried in cast iron skillets and frying kettles, and others will be cooked in foil, Dutch ovens, and sauté pans. Don’t forget spit cooking using electric-powered or old-fashioned hand-cranked rotisseries, even on a rod suspended on forked sticks. Others may choose to buy fried chicken from KFC or other purveyors for a quick and easy first meal in camp.
Another option is grocery store rotisserie chicken. Costco leads the pack in prepared chicken with 90 million rotisserie birds out the door each year at $4.99 each. Their production has grown 8 percent annually for nine years, which tells you something . . . we like quick and easy. It’s tasty, but a three-ounce serving contains 151 milligrams of sodium and yields 384 calories and 19 grams of protein. Grocery chains, too, sell large amounts of rotisserie chicken. Rotisserie chicken originates as unsold in-house fowl that was approaching their sell date. All this adds up to over 9 billion chickens slaughtered each year in the United States. We are in love with the flavors of chicken, the many ways to cook it, and the egg by-products used in baking, prepared foods, and as a main component in breakfast around the country.
Where did today’s chicken come from? Evidence suggests that Asian red jungle fowl and related subspecies were first domesticated around seven thousand years ago in Java, Burma, India, and Vietnam. Three kinds of domesticated animal were carried by Austronesian people in voyages to the islands of Oceania in prehistoric times: pigs, dogs, and chickens.
Not having to try to hunt down and kill wild animals for a daily calorie and protein source was a huge technological advance. It led to less dependence on hunting and gathering, the emergence of agriculture, more established and defined home territories, and urbanization, with its own problems.
Younger folks have no concept of living without refrigeration and the convenience of buying processed and packaged meat, even if there is a drop in quality. I lived on a West Texas ranch in the 1950s with a favorite aunt and uncle, my surrogate grandparents. We were so far from town that electrical lines didn’t reach us, so refrigeration as most people know it today didn’t exist.
One of my jobs was guarding and caring for our flock of 150 chickens, mostly hens, plus a dozen guinea fowl and a few domestic turkeys. Young chicks were easy pickings for predators — ravens, crows, and hawks raided regularly, opportunistically zeroing in. I kept a chambered shotgun close at hand.
Chickens were our egg and protein source. Kept cool, in a shaded, insulated, underground tornado shelter, hen eggs had a decent shelf life. Guinea fowl were tasty in their own right, but were valued as much for their uncanny ability to detect the presence of rattlesnakes and other predators, relentlessly driving them away. They controlled ticks, as well. We grew corn and maize for supplemental feeding of our small cattle herd and the chickens. Six weeks before winding up on the table, the birds were moved to fattening coops. We ate chicken several times a week. Leftover fried chicken would keep a full day. The ritual of killing a plump chicken by chopping its head off, gutting, plucking, and singeing the pinfeathers in a flame got old, but that was the best chicken ever. It was truly free range, tender, succulent, and tasty, as well as free of antibiotics and hormones. A mouthwatering aroma burst out as you sunk your teeth through the coating and into the moist meat.
In the chicken industry today, with several exceptions, “free range” just means a bigger cage. One of my great letdowns in life was returning to the ranch after years of absence (school and the military) and finding that my aunt now bought preprocessed and packaged Tyson chicken in a Piggly Wiggly market. Part of that letdown came from discovering that biscuits now came out of a can and cake from a cardboard box. Can you blame her?
Lack of refrigeration dictated much of our diet. We sold our cattle to a local slaughterhouse and would keep a processed and wrapped side of beef in town in a commercial cold-storage locker. If we butchered hogs, spicy sausage and hams were cured in our smokehouse, usually during winter cold spells. Our free range chickens and fresh, organic eggs were a trading commodity. Prime beef and choice cuts such as filet, New York, rib roast, and rib eye were rare on our table. That kind of beef was a cash crop. Cheaper round steak, prepared as chicken-fried steak for breakfast or supper, was a delicious mainstay, in part because it was pounded with a tenderizing mallet to make the rump meat more palatable, dusted in seasoned flour, and fried in bacon fat. Residual pan grease, cream, churned butter, and more flour went into fresh gravy . . . every day.
Following World War II and a new urban life in California, my mother would call our local butcher and send me on my bike to pick up a whole plucked, dressed chicken. Mom would cut it into pieces, which showed up as fried chicken on the table that evening, often with corn on the cob in season, biscuits, and gravy. If I got a second portion, it would be the “pope’s nose”— the tail portion
Then, sometime in the 1950s, mass-produced, processed chicken appeared in markets. This was related to the earlier discovery of vitamin D. Chickens need vitamin D for year-round growth, weight gain, and egg production. On the ranch, we didn’t get as many eggs in winter because of the short days and dark skies. Today, because of Vitamin D and supplemental feeding (mostly corn and soybeans), egg-laying hens can produce 300 eggs a year.
Meat production is a different operation from egg production. Most chicken is genetically modified, and sex linking is used to assure that 99 percent of fertilized eggs are female, which yields better meat production — males are inherently tougher. Producers use Cornish and White Rock varieties to obtain an optimal feed-to-meat ratio. They are labeled “broilers” in the market.
Unless a chicken is certified to be “free” of them, antibiotics and hormones are part of the deal, because crowded rearing conditions promote disease. Like grass-fed beef, “free range” and “organic” chicken are increasing in popularity, because much of the flavor in today’s supermarket chickens has been bred out and lost in mass-production methods — producers inject saline solution into chicken meat to increase the weight that you pay for and bring back lost flavor. That’s why you have to exercise due diligence, read labels, and forage a bit to find the best product. Doing so maximizes enjoyment as well as health benefits and raises the bar on what you put on the table.
A recent grocery store visit found seven different chicken brands in cold cases, including whole frozen and unfrozen birds, as well as frozen and unfrozen thighs, legs, wings and breasts. Complicate this with both skinless and boneless pieces to choose from. Three of the seven choices were labeled “organic.” That alone doesn’t guarantee an optimal product. It boils down to how the animals were housed, raised, fed, and processed. My aunt’s methods were labor intensive, but can’t be beat for product freshness, lack of adulteration, tenderness, and overall quality. Her chickens moved from freely ranging our barnyard with a diet high in carbohydrates and insect protein to large cages with increased food rations to fatten up in the last days of their lives. There is always a trade-off in the options available in the supermarket. Boneless means less flavor. Skinless means less fat, less flavor, and that the meat will dry out, both in cooking and during overnight storage. At fly-club barbecues, we cook boneless, skinless thighs along with tri-tip so people with health concerns have a choice, but we need to marinate and spice the chicken. A bit of smoke flavor helps.
My preference in processed chicken is a new product called Smart Chicken. It is air chilled, with no added water, no antibiotics, no animal by-products, no growth stimulants, hand trimmed, cage free, humanely raised, and sustainably farmed, and it stands out because of its innate superior flavor and succulence. Why is Smart Chicken so tasty? Producers use all-vegetable, high-quality, non-GMO corn and soybean feed, “free range” housing (barns instead of cages), less stress, and humane, controlled-atmospheric CO2 killing techniques that minimize muscle tightening. This product has increased its market share and has been bought recently by megaproducer Tyson, which wants to get into this burgeoning market. You will see more of this quality approach, just as you are seeing with the explosion of organic produce into chain grocery stores.
My wife and I choose whole, skinon birds for roasting in a foil-lined wok or using the beer-can technique, where the bird is slid body-cavity down on a stainless wire cylinder and set upright on the grill of my hooded gas barbeque oven, on the grill in a Big Green Egg, or in an indoor kitchen oven. An opened beer can is inserted in the cylinder, and the bird roasts vertically upright, with moisture and flavor coming from boiling beer. A variation requires that you drink the beer and fill the can with white wine. Coq au vin? For weekday meals, we prefer whole, skin-on, bone-in breast halves. Two breast halves yield four or more portions, depending on appetite. Bone-in breasts are healthy and very easy to cook. I flavor with garlic salt or a Cajun spice mix and don’t need or use marinade. On a gas grill, I cook it 25 to 30 minutes on a rack above a low-medium flame, turning several times to reach a perfect 155 degrees interior temperature, which will rise on removal and resting under foil to 165 degrees, a food-safe temperature for fowl. If cooking over charcoal, let the coals burn down and then slide them to the side for more even heat, as is done routinely in Argentina. This minimizes flare-up. Check often with a fast-read digital meat thermometer.
If fatty skin and its associated cholesterol is an issue, still cook the bird skin-on, which adds flavor, naturally bastes, and holds moisture in, then slide the skin off before consumption. Some chicken recipes in high-end restaurants call for peeling the skin off, scraping off the underlying fat, and replacing the skin back on the bird for cooking. It’s a labor-intensive process.
Chicken, like rabbit and other poultry, is vulnerable to salmonella contamination. The standard in food safety is to remove chicken from its package and place it directly in a pan or on the grill. It is not necessary to wash the bird pieces. However, always wash your hands if there has been any contact with the uncooked bird or its juices. Don’t use a knife that has cut raw chicken to prep vegetables. Do not cross-contaminate utensils, cutting boards, or cooking vessels.
It’s not hard to raise the bar in camp cooking. Start with better product and try some new recipes. Here are a few, for starters.
From my Hawaiian/Japanese friend: Slather a whole chicken in mayonnaise and spices, then wrap in banana leaves and bury it in a beachside pit with residual coals and hot stones. Cover the pit with sand and dive for langoustina while it cooks. Kona beer is the suggested beverage.
In camp: Suspend a whole chicken on a chain from an iron cooking tripod such as wagon train immigrant cooks used. Let the bird slowly roast and baste in its own fat while the coals gradually burn down. Drizzle with white wine and dust with Cajun spice. Give it a spin now and then. If the pioneers were lucky, they used this technique, minus the wine, to cook wild prairie chickens . . . lean, but tasty.
On a smaller grill: Split game hens (small chickens) down the breast bone and flatten. Season with garlic salt. The meat is a bit gelatinous, so cook them a bit longer. Separate at the breast bone for serving. Cold roast game hen makes for a wonderful streamside lunch. Raise the bar with a good champagne.
At home on a winter night: Roast a whole chicken in a foil-lined wok. Build a small foil platform in the pan’s center and place the bird breast down. Stuff the bird with a mix of arugula and baby spinach. Add baby carrots, Russian fingerling potatoes, and whole cipollini onions to the edges after a half hour at 425 degrees. Finish at 375 for another half hour. Periodically baste the vegetables with rendered chicken fat from the bottom of the wok. Test the roasting bird with a meat thermometer. Large broilers may need another 15 minutes.
For a fast camp or backyard meal: Shred rotisserie chicken for tacos or as the protein in a Chinese chicken salad one-dish meal. Precooked Asian sesame noodles add carbs and interest. Cashews and cilantro give texture and flavor. Chopsticks, for sure.
My Quick Visit to Kernville
By Richard Anderson
Six and a half hours on the road from Truckee to Kernville, and when I rolled into this tiny, well-kept town, I was frazzled by the drive. I needed to relax, and I needed comfort — both best achieved this early-June evening through a martini followed by a steak.
The receptionist at my hotel sympathized, and suggested a restaurant named Ewings, situated on a hillside on the east side of town and overlooking the Kern River. (“You can walk there,” he said, after I expressed an interest in having a cocktail.) He also mentioned that although Ewings had been around for decades, it had fallen for a while on hard times, but now had new owners who had brought the joint back to life. Exactly what I desired: resurrection.
Bright neon signage glowed in the darkness, guiding my way to the entrance. The spacious front room opened onto several dining areas and had a small bar tucked neatly in a corner. Pine paneling covered the walls, on which were hung pelts and heads and miscellanea that told you this was a place honest to its environs and its community. I liked Ewings immediately. And I particularly liked the drink and the meal: an impressively hefty house martini (at an impressively inexpensive $7), followed by a medium-rare rib-eye ($29) served with a peppercorn sauce and onion straws, and accompanied with a green salad (or soup), a potato and vegetable hash, and bread. In other words, a darn good deal. (Interestingly, it’s late June and I just checked Ewings website, www.ewingsonthekern. com: the ribeye is now listed at $36. I guess we’ve entered the tourist season.) Other entree options include pastas and smoked meats. Ewings, by the way, also serves breakfast and lunch, and is open until 9 p.m. I’d give an address, but really, all you need to do is head east across the bridge and then up the hill. It’ll be to your left.
My second day in Kernville was a warm one (this part of the Sierra is pretty much desert), so that evening I headed over to the Kern River Brewing Company to hoist a cooling pint. Just upslope from Ewings, this brewpub has a contemporary, vaguely industrial ambiance, which I guess is standard for such places these days. Its two dining and drinking areas were bustling with locals and visitors — an indication that the beer or food or both would be up to snuff. And they certainly were. I went with the “Meat ’n Cheese Plate,” which basically was a huge charcuterie platter of sausages, cheeses, and pickles. To wash down this cornucopia, I chose a seasonal gose beer, which has a lemony sourness that I discovered makes for wonderful quaffing on a hot day. KRBC offers a wide and intriguing variety of brews, and also seems to be the place to go in Kernville if you’re simply seeking a happy vibe and good pub grub like burgers and chili and mac and cheese and such. As with Ewings, you don’t need an address to find this place. It’s open until 9:30 p.m. Sunday through Thursday and to 10:00 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays.
For info, visit kernriverbrewing.com. Kernville, by the way, is the gateway to a number of excellent trout waters, including the special-reg section of the Kern upstream from Johnsondale Bridge and the backcountry streams of the Kern Plateau. And nearby, Lake Isabella offers fly-fishing opportunities for trout, bass, panfish, and carp (as discussed in a feature article elsewhere in this issue), among other species. If you’re driving through Kernville, you need to stop at Guy Jeans’s Kern River Fly Shop. As a destination retailer, Guy has in stock everything you might have forgotten when you left home, and as a guide and instructor, he has insights on the local waters and carries the flies that’ve proven their value here. As with Ewings and KRBC, you don’t need an address to find the shop. It is a mere skip and a jump east of the bridge in town. Guy’s website is kernriverflyshop.com; phone (760) 376-2040. Guy is also a heckuva musician, and plays in a ska/reggae band called The StoneFlys. Their latest CD, After the Shuck, is available at the store. Having been a fan back in the early ’80s of the English Beat and the British “Two Tone” bands, I give this recording a huge thumbs up. The songs, by the way, are about love and life rather than fishing. You can check them out at www.stoneflysmusic.com.
