Martha’s version is all structure. Cut the backbone. Flatten the breast. Tuck the butter under the skin with grace and precision.
She seasons generously. Mixes lemon juice, zest, garlic, and parsley into softened butter. Two-thirds go under the skin. The rest over the top.
She roasts it all in one pan—chicken surrounded by potatoes, carrots, Brussels sprouts. It’s golden. Glorious. A whole-sheet-tray flex.
She makes it look effortless. But it’s not. It’s war. And you win it with your hands.
What I Did Differently
I used salted butter. Sue me. Didn’t chop the parsley that fine. My lemons were shriveled. Still zested. Still worked.
Used a roasting pan instead of a baking sheet. Forgot to line it. Don’t care.
The Brussels sprouts were a little old. One was definitely bad. I picked around it.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
The scissors weren’t sharp enough. I cursed. Loudly. Mae laughed from the other room. Said I sounded like a butcher with a podcast.
I pressed the bird flat with both palms. It made a sound I won’t describe. Loosened the skin with my thumbs. Got butter everywhere. Didn’t even wipe the counter.
Threw the veg around it like an afterthought. Salted like I meant it. Poured olive oil like I was mad at it.
The smell hit halfway through. Garlic. Chicken. Burnt edge of carrot. It smelled like something was about to make sense.
A Few Things I Learned While It Roasted
Cutting through a backbone feels personal. Salted butter doesn’t ruin anything. Your hands know more than the recipe does.
What I Did With the Extras
Ate the skin first. Always do. Pulled pieces off with my fingers while the pan was still too hot. Left a leg for Mae. She didn’t thank me. She just ate.
Would I Make It Again?
Absolutely. On a Sunday when I don’t want to talk to anyone, but still want the house to smell like I tried.
That’s As Much As I Remember
The pan’s still greasy. But the silence after dinner felt clean.
If you want something that breaks and still feeds you, I made a yellow cake last week that cracked in all the right places.
I Tried Martha Stewart’s Spatchcock Chicken, and I Didn’t Follow All the Rules
FAQs
Do I Really Have To Cut Out The Backbone?
yes. it’s the whole point. it’s called spatchcocking. commit.
Can I Skip The Butter Under The Skin?
technically. but why would you? it’s what makes the whole thing taste like effort.
What If I Don’t Have Brussels Sprouts?
use whatever. potatoes. onions. just roast something next to it. the chicken shares.
Can I Use A Roasting Pan Instead Of A Sheet Pan?
yep. just expect less crisp, more juice. not a bad thing.
How Long Does It Really Take?
45 minutes. maybe more if your chicken’s stubborn. or your oven’s moody.
Difficulty:BeginnerPrep time: 20 minutesCook time: 45 minutesRest time: minutesTotal time:1 hour 5 minutesServings:4 servingsCalories:545 kcal Best Season:Suitable throughout the year
Description
Crispy, golden, and just violent enough to feel cathartic—this bird cooks fast and tastes like rebellion.
Ingredients
For the Chicken:
For the Flavored Butter:
For the Vegetables:
Instructions
Preheat oven to 425°F (220°C). get the pan ready. line it if you care about cleanup.
Spatchcock the chicken. backbone out. flip it. press hard until it cracks flat.
Loosen the skin. gently, with your thumbs. pretend you’re not afraid of raw chicken.
Mix the flavored butter. butter, oil, garlic, lemon, parsley, salt. mash it with a fork.
Spread butter under the skin. two-thirds of it. save the rest for the outside.
Rub the top with butter. go messy. it’s worth it.
Toss the vegetables around the chicken. drizzle with oil. salt like you mean it.
Roast for 45 minutes. middle rack. don’t open the door. trust it.
Check the temp. 160°F in the breast. or close. it keeps cooking.
Rest the chicken 10 minutes. then carve. eat. repeat.
