I love Pedro Ximenez (or PX). I love drinking it, I even love saying it (you’ve got to really lean into the ‘x’, like ‘Hxxxxxxxximeneth’). But I hadn’t, until Monday night, cooked with it. I have a feeling I’ve come across a PX ice cream at some point which certainly makes sense, the treacly sherry being just the thing for whipping into a vanilla custard, but never, to my knowledge, in savoury cooking.
A half-drunk bottle of the stuff had sat by my cooker for months, gathering dust and spattered oil. In a moment of fridge sluttery I tipped it all over a waiting chicken, forming a shallow bath in the bottom of the roasting dish. It was joined by great wedges of red onion, lemon, and garlic – lots of garlic. I then practically assaulted the bird with salt and pepper, added a glug of olive oil, enough thyme to choke a mule, and bunged it in the oven at 220C. After 15 minutes the oven went down to 190C for another 45 minutes.
As the bird rested I mashed all the garlic and onion into the now-pretty-much-ready-to-go gravy, and added a little water just to thin it out a bit. Our bird was carved and served with the sweetest, garlic-est gravy I’ve ever had.