First catch your cobblestone. That was the suggestion of my butcher Roberta. Years ago, driving home past the ancient city wall with her husband after a day working on the family stall on Testaccio market, they ran over something. Concerned for both the thing and their tyre, they stopped the car to discover a pair of dislodged cobblestones. Romans call cobblestones sampietrini, and much of the historic centre is still an almost living, breathing mosaic of leucite rock that dates back to the 16th century. From above they appear to be large, shiny pebbles but, dislodged, each cobble is long and bevelled, like a molar tooth complete with stumpy root; and heavy – not the sort of thing you want under a tyre. Seeing there were no visible holes nearby, Roberta picked up the wayward cobbles and took them home. They’ve been weights for her chicken “devil’s style” ever since.
I didn’t go and catch a cobble, even though at the moment there are great piles of them here in Testaccio as erupted sections of sampietrini are dug up then re-laid, the chink, chick of the Selciarolo’s hammer providing a sort of metronome to increasingly hot afternoons. When I need a weight, the old iron that keeps the kitchen doors open steps in to press a pudding or a chicken deep into a pan. A brick would also work, or pan full of water according to Roberta; although that sounds like a recipe for a flood to me. Whatever you use as a weight, the chicken needs to be spatchco*cked or butterflied – opened up like a book with the wings tucked in – and well seasoned. Alla diavola means “devil’s style”: think heat and naked flames (although possibly not hellish ones). In Rome the heat usually comes from loads of freshly ground black pepper. Recipes from Tuscany and Naples suggest various degrees of chilli and herbs, too. I use both black pepper and peperoncino chilli, mixing them with olive oil, which I use to baste and baste.
I am curious to know where people light their grills and barbecues in Testaccio. In Gela, my partner’s home town in Sicily, small charcoal grills called brace are set up on doorsteps and balconies, the curl of smoke marking the spot. Here in Rome, the only clue is the scent of meat over hot coals carried on the thick summer air into our kitchen. In the absence of an open flame or barbecue, a griddle pan or deep frying pan works too. Having overcooked and undercooked before I got it right, I now know, for me, a 1.5kg chicken needs 50 minutes and five turns in a pan: so 15 minutes skin-side down to get a deep golden seal, then 10 skin-side up, 10 down, 10 up, then the final five with the skin down to seal the golden crust. Before each turn you baste, then you put the weight back on so it presses the meat firmly into the hot pan or grill. By the end of cooking, the chicken should be golden and sticky, the skin crisp and the flesh tender. A 15-minute rest in the cooling pan is important. This is not chicken to be carved, but to be cut with poultry shears, or simply pulled to bits.
To go with the chicken, and following on from last week’s salad/antipasti, I suggest a variation of peperonata called peperoni mandorlati – red peppers with almonds – a curious combination, but one that works. Rather like peperonata, you fry strips of pepper until they have tipped from taut to floppy; add peeled tomato, sugar and vinegar, but also raisins and pieces of almonds. You let everything simmer until you have a rich and glossy stew, both sweet and sour with the texture and milky crunch of the almonds. Alongside the peppers and chicken, provide wedges of lemon and a green salad.
While I got sticky fingers and was transported back to the chicken dinners of my childhood - the reliable comfort, bickering over the wishbone – Vincenzo was transported back to Sicily, where sweet and sour vegetables with almonds are dishes for summer months and appetites. The chicken could be cooked in advance and eaten at room temperature, although it really is best hot. The peppers, on the other hand, can most certainly be cooked earlier. In fact, as I write this on a warm Monday afternoon, my third batch of of peperoni mandorlati is sitting on the side getting better and better, and I can just about hear the clink, clink of cobble stones being hammered into place.
Chicken devil’s style with red peppers and almonds
You will need a heavy weight to weigh the chicken down. You can make the peppers (step 2) in advance.
Serves 4
1.6kg chicken, spatchco*cked
6 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Black pepper
A dried red chilli, finely chopped
Salt
For the peppers
1kg red peppers
6 tbsp olive oil
Salt
A small handful of raisins
700g ripe tomatoes
100g whole peeled almonds
2 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tbsp sugar
1 Bring the chicken to room temperature. Mix the olive oil with plenty of black pepper and the chilli and leave it to sit for 10 minutes. Brush the chicken inside and out with the oil, sprinkle with salt and then use your fingers to rub it in. Leave it to sit for an hour.
2 Cut the peppers into 1cm strips, discarding the seeds and pith. In a large frying pan, warm 6 tbsp olive oil over a medium flame and gently fry the peppers with a pinch of salt until soft and floppy. Meanwhile, plump the raisins in hot water for 10 minutes.
3 Peel the tomatoes by plunging them into boiling water then cold water – at which which point the skins should slip away – then chop roughly.
4 Chop the almonds in two. Add the tomatoes, plumped raisins, almonds, vinegar and sugar to the peppers and cook the mixture for 15 minutes – or until the stew is rich and thick. Taste and adjust salt, vinegar and sugar if necessary.
5 Get the frying pan hot and put the chicken skin-side down in the pan. Put a weight on top, reduce the heat to medium and leave for 15 minutes.
6 Baste the inside of the chicken, and then turn it, leaving it to fry for 10 minutes. Baste and turn back to skin-side down for 10 minutes, then skin-side up for another 10. The final 5 minutes is skin-side down. After each turn, return the weight. Once cooked, let the chicken rest for 15 minutes before serving with the peppers.
Rachel Roddy is an award-winning food writer based in Rome and the author of Five Quarters: Recipes and Notes from a Kitchen in Rome (Saltyard) @racheleats
