Sunday Roast – In Good Times and in Bad Times

A vast majority of local people had the same ritual. In the current lockdown situation, this memory often pops into my head. Now we spend more time with our families than ever, and we focus on food and cooking more than ever. Sunday lunch is definitely making a comeback, and not only on Sundays!

“Natural order of things – chicken broth first, roast chicken second.” Image credit: Čedo Kovačević

In the beginning was the chicken! That’s perfectly understandable – it's the cheapest and most common member of the poultry family available, and one of the most safe-bet dishes you can serve children or finicky eaters. Yet, when I think of the chicken from my childhood and compare it to the kind of chicken found in supermarkets today, the difference is huge. The size of the bird, fat content, texture, and of course, the taste... I admit, maybe that chicken has acquired mythical dimensions in my subjective mind over the years. But still, in those days it was much easier to find a tasty, locally grown, even free-range chicken. (Except we didn't call it like that, it was known simply as – a chicken.)

“Just the bird and potatoes, some greens on the side, and a nice drink to wash it all down.” Image credit: Ribafish

Of course, the whole bird had to be used, nothing gets thrown away. Legs and giblets were cooked for hours to give us our Sunday lunch starter – chicken broth soup. The rest was ceremoniously laid in a giant baking tray with potatoes and sent to its journey in the oven. No spices, herbs, extra veggies – no complications. Salt, pepper and the fat dripping from the bird is all you need. As the smell gradually spread across the whole apartment, you knew it was done. You would open the oven and say hello to a wonderful golden brown chicken crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside. It was my dad's job to carve the chicken and serve it, and mum would take care of the sides. Back then I would go straight for the breast. It took me years to evolve and start appreciating drumsticks and wings.

“Only the perfectly roasted chicken can give you this shade of golden brown.” Image credit: Enogastrobrutal

Occasionally, when my parents would get hold of some other, less frequent bird – a turkey or a duck – it would replace the chicken, but not for long. Chicken simply meant Sunday at home. At many, many homes across Zagreb. It was and still is the standard. If you want to reconstruct this meal outside your home, some restaurants specialized in traditional cuisine, mostly those located in the countryside, will serve it as their Sunday special. However, a large number of traditional restaurants, especially the ones located in the city or considered a little bit fancier, serve veal, lamb, pork, duck or turkey as their Sunday roast. Why? I guess because the whole roast chicken is considered too common and mundane, not special enough – something you can have at home. Well, exactly!

“Once in a while, on special occasions, you can replace the chicken with something else, like roast kid goat.” Image credit: Taste of Croatia

And this is why lately I have been thinking about the family sitting together and eating roast chicken a lot, remembering what it meant to me when I was a child. One of my first instincts after the lockdown started and Zagreb got hit by an earthquake was to order a free-range chicken from a trusted supplier and do a Sunday roast. Maybe it wasn't as tasty as the mythical chicken prepared by my parents a long time ago, but it did the trick of bringing the family together.

Header image credit: Taste of Croatia

Author: Taste of Croatia, Morana Zibar