OK, we love Cornish game hens. And whereas, when we were younger, we could each easily polish off our own game hen, that is no longer the case. So, we now share a hen. (A 24-ounce hen that is. And yes, they come in smaller sizes!) And as much as I think a grilled game hen is lovely, I prefer to stick the darn thing in the oven and forget about it. So, I am always trying to find new and different ways to serve these rather affordable and succulent little beasties.
So, the other evening, for the first time ever, I decided to try my hand at spatchcocking. I’d heard about this method of insuring that every bit of the hen gets roasted evenly, but I had never tried it. For whatever reason. (Oh heck, I know the reason. I thought it would be much more difficult than it was and that I would make as much of a mess spatchcocking, as I do when I try to cutup a whole chicken. Which, unfortunately, I have never succeeded in doing, enough so, that you could identify it as chicken rather than mystery meat! But that’s a long, sad tale for another day!) Anyway, I managed to make short work of the job and was quite proud of myself. And the hen roasted beautifully. And I was so delighted to find that the skin (which is one of the best parts of a game hen) had browned and crisped up beautifully. Revelation! And I’ve got to say, for me there is no turning back! It’s spatchcocked game hens for me from now on. And yes, I have another wonderful recipe for game hens on this site. Rosemary, Lemon, and Garlic Roasted Cornish Game Hens. But you can bet your last turkey wish bone, that the next time I make that delightful recipe, there will have been some spatchcocking action going on before that baby reaches the oven! (I’m nothing if not flexible!)
So, if you too are a fan of Cornish game hens, and for the world I wouldn’t know why you wouldn’t be, then I suggest you give this recipe a try. And to learn how to spatchcock a game hen, go on-line. There are innumerable videos for you to watch presented by people who actually know what they’re doing! I leave you in their capable hands.
So, as always, leave your fears behind when you go into your kitchen. I remember taking a short cake decorating class many years ago. And the first thing our instructor said to us was “remember, frosting is an inanimate object, and you all are smart human beings.” (She was making a huge assumption when it came to this class attendee. But I was smart enough to catch her point.) Frosting, or any ingredient for that matter, is subject to the whims and wishes of the cook. In a cook’s capable hands, frosting can be spread beautifully, or if can look like a 5-year-old had fun alone in the kitchen. But her point was, so what if your first try isn’t successful, scrape the frosting off the cake and try again. You, the human, are in charge. I learned a lot that day from that fine instructor. But I still can’t cut up a chicken to save my soul!
Peace and love to all.
3 T. unsalted butter, room temperature
½ tsp. seasoned salt
freshly ground black pepper
1 clove garlic, finely minced
½ lemon, zested
1 tsp. minced fresh rosemary
½ tsp. minced fresh sage
½ tsp. fresh thyme leaves
1 (24-oz.) Cornish game hen, washed, dried and spatchcocked
In a small bowl, mix the butter, seasoned salt, pepper, garlic, lemon zest, rosemary, sage, and thyme together. Place the spatchcocked hen on a small, rimmed baking sheet.
Using your finger loosen the skin from the breast and legs/thighs and stuff all but 1 tablespoon of the lemon-herb butter under the skin. Rub the remaining butter over the top of the hen.
Bake in a pre-heated 375-degree oven for 1 hour or until the skin is golden brown and the internal temperature in the thigh reaches 160-degrees. Remove from the oven and let rest for 10 minutes before serving.