It was Magnus Nilsson, he of Fäviken fame (former World’s 50 Best Restaurants, now closed), who first drew culinary attention to the deliciousness of an animal that had not been bred to be, nor was deemed worthy of being, eaten. In that case it was a dairy cow, retired from the service of producing milk and destined for the scrap heap. Nilsson struck up an arrangement with the dairy farm and began cooking the animals in his restaurant. The slow-grown nature of the breed, combined with its primary purpose as producer of milk, gave the animal a multi-layered, rich and complex flavour; a flavour unparalleled by many breeds specifically raised to be eaten, and in discovering the unrealised potential of this bovine beauty, Nilsson opened the eyes of chefs around the world to the possibility of finding purpose beyond what is preordained. 

It is an idea which we, as chefs, should strive to emulate. Sustainability has become a buzz word of late – an apparent panacea for the myriad ills committed by an increasingly industrialized food supply chain - but what does it mean to truly cook sustainably and to what lengths must we go to ensure that we do so?

As it happens, a wonderful opportunity to answer both these questions lies at my doorstep, in the guise of R&R Roosters, care of Shiralee Organic Meats in Brookvale. 

R&R Roosters is the brainchild of Ryan & Rebecca Cirello, founders of a heritage cockerel farm in Llandilo, NSW. Their operation rescues day-old male chicks, born of egg production farms (and as such destined for the same wasteful end as a dairy cow at the end of its milk-producing life), and raises them on pastures for 16 odd weeks before preparing them for the table on the self-same farm where they happily roamed. The model is at the heart of what sustainability should be about: a life-cycle born out of the desire to avoid needless waste and an outcome which significantly contributes to the richness and diversity of a poultry landscape which has sadly been univocal in its monochrome devotion to white broiler birds for far too long. 

What to expect from your Rooster

Roosters are not like the broiler birds we have all become overly accustomed to  roasting for the last 100 years. Far from it. That is a hugely welcome and exciting thing, but we must enter into this experience with our eyes open, knowing what to expect from a bird almost none of us have cooked before.

The Rhode Island Red Rooster is not going to deliver soft, yielding meat. Rather, it is akin to a Game bird: dark in flesh, deep and brooding in flavour and firm in texture. This last descriptor is key. Firm does not mean tough. If the bird is tough, it is because of a mis-step in the cooking process, not an innate characteristic of the breed. We must make sure we treat this firmness with respect; assigning the appropriate cooking technique to the subject at hand (more on this in just a minute), will ensure the rooster’s texture is something to be celebrated.  

The slow-growing nature of this breed (a 16-week life-cycle as opposed to the 4 weeks which typifies the white broiler) means that it delivers a multi-layered, complex flavour, redolent of the savoury, herbaceous pastures on which it is raised. This inherent flavour informs what ingredients we pair with it (we will use herbs to infuse the flesh), just as its natural texture guides how we cook it.  

A note on cooking technique

Roosters are not fat birds. They mature slowly, growing lean and tall, remaining active for all of their lives on the Llandilo farm. A proud, majestic bird that needs its innate qualities to be celebrated in the dish that adorns our table. To best do justice to our rooster we need to understand two things: the first, how meat cooks under temperature and the second… butter. 

In order to preserve the firmness of texture but not allow the rooster’s flesh to dry out and become tough, we will slow-cook our bird. This means heating your oven to 150 degrees.

RECIPE

Ingredients (use organic ingredients wherever possible)

For the compound butter

• Grass finished organic butter, at room temperature, 150g

• Sage leaves, a handful

• Thyme, another handful

• Rosemary, a handful

• Lemon, the juice of half

For the rooster

• R&R Rooster, 1 whole

• Carrots, 2

• Lemon, 1

• Garlic cloves, 4

• Pink peppercorns, a handful (pink peppercorns are milder than black & have a wonderful citrus flavour)

• White onions, 2

• Thyme, bunch

• Rosemary, bunch

• Sage, bunch

• Flat leaf parsley, bunch

• Shiralee Chicken broth, 200ml

• Salt, to taste

• Olive oil, a splash

Equipment

Oven, pre-heated to 150 degrees Celsius 

A heavy-set casserole pot with a lid that can house the rooster and veggies snugly (often referred to as a Dutch oven)

Method

For the compound butter

A compound butter is an unnecessarily opaque cooking term for butter mixed with other ingredients. 

In this case the “other ingredients” are herbs: namely sage, thyme & rosemary, and – truth be told – you don’t really need a recipe for it. Simply roughly chop some sage leaves and mix through with stripped rosemary and thyme (the leaves removed from the woody stalks), place in a blender, add a generous amount of butter (150g should be sufficient), top with some freshly squeezed lemon juice and blend until it has all joined forces to form a highly aromatic, unified butter that could solve even the most complex of toast predicaments.

For the Rooster

With the rooster’s breast facing you, gently work your fingers between the skin and the flesh of the body, freeing the skin and creating a space in which to spread the butter. Be careful not to rip the skin and keep it attached to the bird at the periphery of the body. This is much easier than it sounds.

Do the very same thing with the bird’s legs. Slightly trickier than on the body, due to the smaller surface area, but still achievable.   

Once you have created space betwixt skin and flesh, lubricate one hand with the lemon and herb butter and slather it underneath the skin, all over the rooster’s flesh. Don’t be shy with the butter and make sure you rummage to the extremities of the bird, applying all the buttery goodness to all corners of our once-feathered friend.

Once all the butter is used up – adorning both the breast, sides and legs of the bird – pull the skin back taut, covering the now-buttery flesh. Set the bird aside.

Tail the carrots and chop, on the diagonal (because I like the shape), the carrots. Peel the onions, remove the root and chop into 4 equally sized pieces. With the flat side of your cook’s knife, crush the garlic cloves, remove the skin & trim the root. 

Cut the lemon in half and insert the first half of the lemon into the roosters rib-cage cavity. Now insert x2 of the garlic cloves, followed by the other half of the lemon. This not only helps keep the shape of the bird as it slowly roasts, but also infuses the bird with aromatic lemon & garlic from the inside out, whilst helping to keep it succulent. 

Place all the chopped veggies, the pink peppercorns & the bunches of herbs into the bottom of the casserole pot and pour the 200ml of chicken broth over it all. This perfumed base will release its aroma as it slowly cooks and imbue the Rooster with herbaceous, citrus flavour.   

Nestle the Rooster atop all of these ingredients, add a splash of olive oil and a sprinkle of salt over the bird and put the lid of the pot firmly in place.

Put the casserole pot into the pre-heated oven and cook for 90 mins.

When you remove the casserole pot from the oven and remove the lid you will be met with a fabulous, aromatic steam.

Allow to cool a little before serving the bird – as you would a traditionally roasted chicken – with all the accompanying vegetables and cooking broth. 

Pair your Rooster with a 4 Pines Amber Ale. The caramel and biscuit notes of the beer pair perfectly with the roasted chook, complimenting the citrus profile of the dish, while the astringency of the hops and roasted malts provide enough body to cut through the rich, buttery sweetness that has basted the bird. It’s the perfect match.