Nearly a decade ago, when Marlow & Sons first opened its doors a few blocks from the East River, in the shadow of the Williamsburg Bridge, you could stumble in for one of the most simple and satisfying meals in the city: half a chicken, mostly boned out, pressed under a cast-iron weight as it cooked.
When Sean Rembold put this dish on the opening menu, he wanted the brick chicken to last, to become a favorite with regulars. It did.
Now the kids you once referred to as hipsters, who ate and drank here when they first moved to the neighborhood, blow on pieces of hot thigh meat to cool it down for their children.
Everything's changed, but not the flattened chicken with the impossibly crisp, golden skin--sometimes served with a side of mustard greens or dirty rice--and a thin but deeply flavorful pan sauce.
Rembold is at Reynard these days--another jewel in Andrew Tarlow's crown--but Ken Wiss is still cooking those birds every night, finishing them with a little stock and lemon juice.
The liquid bubbles, reducing with the caramelized bits stuck to the pan, and transforms into a chickeny elixir. And even though we've had it a million times, it still tastes like magic ($28).
Please check your inbox to verify your email address.