I have roasted hundreds of chickens in my time. My mom believes firmly in the power of the boneless, skinless chicken breast. I don’t know whether it was stuffy old novels or my subscription to Gourmet that initiated me into the wonderful world of giblets and confusion.

Don’t get me wrong: I love to roast me a chicken. Just the phrase gives me satisfaction. And I adore the thriftiness of it: one chicken is 3 or 4 meals, PLUS I get to use the carcass to make stock, which makes a whole other set of soup-based meals.

And it really is true that homemade stock is miles and away better than bouillon. (“Better than Bouillon,” which comes in a jar next to the bouillon cubes, is an acceptable substitude in a pinch.) It has actual chicken flavor, not just that flavor of “salt and yellow.”

(Chicken in a Biscuit crackers are flavored with “salt and yellow,” and I LOVE them.)

But. It should be  math, right? You have a chicken of x pounds that you will cook at 425F until the meat reaches 180F in the breast. Cookbooks will tell you that it takes y minutes per pound. So cooking time should be xy.

However, I usually find that the total cooking time is xy + (30-75), resulting in many late dinners and curse words.

Today I figured on xy + 60, to both pad the time and allow for ‘tato cooking.

The chickie was done precisely at time xy. How does this happen? I don’t even know. So at that point, the chicken had to rest in its pan for 45 minutes while I cooked potatoes, so although it was very good, it was not anything like hot by the time we ate it.

Maddening.

Potatoes, however, are admirably regular little things upon which one can depend.

Take a few ‘tatoes. I like swanky yellow ones for this, but any type will do, really. Take a glass baking dish. Chop up your potatoes until you have an amount sufficient for the folks wot will be eating.

Place potato chops in the baking dish. Pour a big healthy glug or 3 of olive oil over them. Season VERY liberally with salt, pepper, and whatever else you think sounds nice. (I like fancy seasoned salts, poultry rub, oregano, and thyme – just not all together.) Stir to make sure all the pieces are coated.

Stick in your 425F oven (heated for your chicken, of course) and roast the ever-lovin’ bejeezus out of them. This takes 30-45 minutes, depending on how crispy you like them and how small your pieces are. I like itty-bitty pieces and a long roast: this results in pieces that are well browned and crunchy on the outside, as if you’re eating french fries that maintain the illusion of being kinda-sorta healthy.