May 26 2009
Discovering’ beer-can chicken
Everyone knows about beer-can chicken.
Everyone but me.
I "discovered" this recipe for the first time a few weeks ago and just about flipped. There's something about cooking chicken on top of a can of beer that satisfies my inner Homer Simpson. I was so excited I just had to tell my co-workers here at The Bee.
No one shared my enthusiasm, not even the folks whose culinary aptitude is limited to making Ramen noodles in the microwave. Seems my colleagues, along with the rest of the world, have been making beer-can chicken for years.
My suspicions were confirmed when I e-mailed the recipe to our testers. Within minutes, a flurry of replies started - each with a tester's favorite beer-can chicken recipe.
Use stout, one tester said. Put garlic and onions in the can, said another.
It seems they all knew about beer-can chicken, and they all had their own methods for making it.
Next, I checked online and got lost in the world of beer-can chicken, which has been elevated to an art among foodies. One cook secures a half-pound of bacon to the top of his chicken with toothpicks before cooking it. Another, who prefers not to use alcohol, uses half a can of apple juice.
Since I was a beginner, I picked the most basic version of beer-can chicken I could find. Then I sent my husband shopping. (It wasn't tough to convince him - he was almost as excited as I was at the prospect of barbecuing with beer.)
Because he went to the store, he had to make the decision: What beer should we use for this all-important adventure?
We didn't get cheap beer - we wanted to taste the flavor in the chicken. But a lot of high-quality beers don't come in cans. We ended up with a six-pack of Heineken.
Putting the chicken on the can was easier than I thought, even though the bird was slippery from the vegetable oil and the barbecue rub. I gently carried it out to the grill and gingerly set it on the grate.
I held my breath, and - guess what? - it didn't topple over.
We could smell the chicken cooking as we played with the children in the blow-up pool. I checked it after about 45 minutes, and I'm glad I did. The skin on one side was burnt black. Next time I make this, I'll be more careful where I place the chicken and how high I turn the flames.
Still, the chicken seemed to be cooked through. I took it off the barbecue using hot pads and put it on a platter. Then I brought it into the kitchen and proceeded to try to pry the beer can out of the - uh - bottom of the chicken.
This is a delicate process. I've since read that you are supposed to hold the base of the can with an oven mitt, then use tongs (grabbing the chicken in the neck cavity) to pull the chicken off.
I've also read that, instead of a beer can, you can buy a "beer-can chicken stand," which isn't really a can at all. Seems like cheating to me.
Anyway, we let the bird rest and then cut into it. The meat was more tender than anything we've barbecued. It didn't taste like beer, but it did have a certain flavor, sort of a slight tang.
So much for my inner Homer Simpson. And my "discovery."
Still, I'm glad I ran across this. I know we will make it again and again.
BEER CAN CHICKEN
Serves: 4
This recipe is from www.foodnetwork.com.
Ingredients:
1 (4-pound) whole chicken
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 tablespoons salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
3 tablespoons of your favorite dry spice rub
1 can beer
Instructions:
Remove neck and giblets from chicken and discard. Rinse chicken inside and out, and pat dry with paper towels. Rub chicken lightly with oil then rub inside and out with salt, pepper and dry rub. Set aside. Open beer can and take several gulps (make them big gulps so that the can is half full). Place beer can on a solid surface. Grabbing a chicken leg in each hand, plunk the bird cavity over the beer can. Transfer the bird on the can to your grill and place in the center of the grate, balancing the bird on its two legs and the can like a tripod.
Cook the chicken over medium-high, indirect heat (i.e. no coals or burners on directly under the bird), with the grill cover on, for approximately 11/4 hours or until the internal temperature registers 165 degrees in the breast area and 180 degrees in the thigh, or until the thigh juice runs clear when stabbed with a sharp knife.
Bee staff writer Kerry McCray can be reached at 578-2358 or at kmccray@modbee.com.
Comments Off