Good Time Chicken

Illustration by Tara Jacoby/GMG.
Illustration by Tara Jacoby/GMG.

Recently, we discussed an important question here at What do you eat after sex? Suggestions were thrown out, debate was had, and conclusions were drawn. But in response to the poll question “What food goes well with sex?”, only 9.09 percent of respondents agreed that “an entire roasted chicken” was the answer.


I’m here to convince the other 90.91 percent of you that it does.

Much has been made of “Engagement Chicken,” an allegedly magical roast chicken recipe that will prompt a man to kneel in front of you in a drafty restaurant and open a small box that reveals a pear-shaped yellow rock (just one option; let’s each take our own beautiful path towards or away from matrimony). Slightly less has been made of “Come Fuck Me Penne à la Vodka,” an also allegedly magical pasta recipe that will get a man to reveal his santa-patterned boxer shorts to you one evening, and to your unsuspecting roommate the next morning (again, we all live different but equally special lives).


But nothing (that I know of; if the following makes you cry out in pleasurable recognition, please do so) has been written about what I will dub here as Good Time Chicken, which is a roast chicken that does not get you marriage, it does not get you sex, but it does perfectly time itself around good sex.

Imagine with me, if you will, a cool evening. (This meal does not work great in the balmy to sweaty months, regardless of whether or not you have central air.) Your chosen partner has been wowed by your claim that you can make a damn good roast chicken with mashed potatoes and a vegetable side of your choice (asparagus or artichokes if you’re me and it’s also my birthday so I’m going all out). The recipe I use is one I call Favorite Chicken, because it is my favorite chicken and I was a creative child. It is simple: a whole chicken rubbed in olive oil, salt, pepper, rosemary and lemon juice, with the inside cavity stuffed with cut lemons and rosemary. It’s a meal that seems impressive but in actuality, is quite easy to prep. What’s hard is the waiting, which can be an hour to an hour and a half depending on the size of the bird.

So you’ve preheated the oven to 475. You’ve prepped the bird. You’ve put it in the oven for half an hour to get that first blast of heat.

Now you have sex.

I know, I know. You’re thrown! The meal isn’t over yet, the foreplay of sexy conversation has not yet happened. But that’s the brilliance of the Good Time Chicken. You have some time to kill; those potatoes (or whatever other side you decide to substitute because again, we’re all out here loving and living) will take no time at all to make, the green of choice the same.


Use that time for the sex. Don’t wait until after your romantic but heavy meal—you’re making gravy with those pan drippings after all—to try to romance one another. Work up even more of an appetite, and then return to the chicken, reduce the temperature to 425 (for a bonus, at this point you can throw some unpeeled garlic cloves into the pan for eating later), and cook it until it’s done—usually a total of an hour to an hour and a half—with a new glow to you and an exciting edge added to your meal.

But I’m starving, Kate, you’re pleading. I need a little snack before the dinner. Well, that’s what the giblets are for. Once you’ve put the chicken in the oven, throw ‘em in a pan with a little olive oil, salt and pepper and sear them real quick. Split the liver with your chosen partner because you’re not a monster. Get your sides going, and now it’s time to turn the temp on the chicken down. THEN go have sex while your meal finishes cooking. And return to your food satiated and ready to rock. See? You have options.


The Good Time Chicken. It’s a good time.

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f’en kudos, tara...that was inspired.