Roast chicken was once a special-occasion treat in Britain, only becoming an everyday dinner after the 1950s. Before that, many families saved a whole bird for Christmas or a rare Sunday celebration.
I love that something once so special now turns up on an ordinary Sunday. Roast chicken has always attracted clever companions, and plenty of them are older than you’d guess.
The bird itself does most of the work in the oven. Then it sits on the board, resting and smelling brilliant, while you wonder what to pour over it.
That small gap is where the fun happens, and it rarely takes more than a pan and a spoon. So which jar, herb or tray of juices will you reach for first?
1. Salsa Verde
Anchovies are the quiet troublemakers in this Italian green sauce, and you won't spot them once they melt in. They add a deep savoury note rather than a fishy one.
Chop a big handful of flat-leaf parsley with a few mint leaves, a spoonful of capers, two anchovy fillets and a small garlic clove. Stir in a teaspoon of Dijon mustard, a squeeze of lemon and about 100ml of extra virgin olive oil.
Chopping by hand gives you a rough, spoonable texture with little bursts of salty caper. A food processor is faster, but pulse it briefly so you don't end up with green soup.
Against rich, crackly chicken skin, the sharpness lands like a breath of fresh air. Make it on the day for the brightest colour, and keep any leftovers covered in the fridge for a day or two. A thin film of oil on top helps stop the herbs turning dark.
2. Bread Sauce
Few sauces carry centuries of British cooking quite so modestly. It looks plain, yet it tastes of cloves, bay and gently spiced milk.
Stud half an onion with four cloves and drop it into 500ml of whole milk with a bay leaf and a few peppercorns. Bring it just to a simmer, then leave it to infuse off the heat for 20 minutes or so.
Fish out the flavourings and stir in roughly 80g of fresh white breadcrumbs. Cook gently until thick and soft, then finish with a knob of butter, a splash of double cream and a grating of nutmeg.
You can make it a day ahead, which takes pressure off a busy Sunday. Cool it quickly, keep it in the fridge, then reheat thoroughly with a little extra milk because it thickens as it sits. Spooned beside crisp chicken and roast potatoes, it brings soft comfort to the plate.
3. Classic Pan Gravy
Those sticky brown bits clinging to your roasting tin are pure gold, so don't let the washing-up bowl get them first. They hold the deepest roasted flavour in the whole kitchen.
Lift the chicken out to rest and spoon off most of the fat, leaving about a tablespoon. Set the tin on the hob, stir in a tablespoon of plain flour and cook for a minute or two.
Gradually whisk in around 500ml of hot chicken stock, scraping the tin as you go. Let it bubble until it coats a spoon, and add any resting juices from the board.
Fancy a twist? A teaspoon of redcurrant jelly brings a fruity edge, while a dash of soy sauce deepens the colour. Check your tin is safe to use on the hob, and grab an oven glove because the handles stay scorching hot.
Season, strain if lumpy, and pour it into a heated jug.
4. Garlic Aioli
Cold, garlicky and thick enough to hold a spoon upright, aioli turns a hot chicken leg into a Mediterranean picnic. Hot meat and cool sauce make a brilliant clash.
The quick route starts with about 150g of good mayonnaise. Stir in one finely grated garlic clove, a squeeze of lemon and a pinch of salt, then leave it for ten minutes so the garlic mellows slightly.
Traditional versions are made from scratch with raw egg yolk and oil. If you go that way, use British Lion-stamped eggs, and skip raw egg for anyone pregnant, very young or elderly unless the eggs carry that mark.
Shop mayonnaise sidesteps the worry and still tastes great. Swipe it across the plate, then drag crispy skin and roast potatoes through it. Leftover chicken in a crusty roll with a thick layer of aioli makes Monday lunch far brighter.
5. Creamy Mushroom Sauce
Mushrooms need patience, and they reward it with a deep, meaty flavour. Crowd the pan and they steam into grey sponges instead of turning golden.
Heat a little butter and oil in a wide frying pan, then add about 250g of sliced chestnut mushrooms in a single layer. Leave them alone for a few minutes before stirring, so they brown properly.
Add a finely chopped shallot and a crushed garlic clove for a minute. Pour in 150ml of chicken stock, let it reduce by half, then stir in 150ml of double cream and simmer until slightly thickened.
A few thyme leaves and a squeeze of lemon keep the richness in check. Stir in the chicken resting juices for extra savouriness. It suits a midweek roast with mash, especially on a damp autumn evening.
6. Chimichurri
Argentina sends this herby sauce out alongside grilled beef, but roast chicken is just as happy to borrow it. Picture salsa verde's bolder cousin, with chilli and vinegar instead of capers.
Finely chop a bunch of flat-leaf parsley and a tablespoon of fresh oregano, or a teaspoon of dried. Add two garlic cloves, a pinch of chilli flakes, three tablespoons of white vinegar and about 100ml of olive oil.
Give it at least 20 minutes to sit before serving. The vinegar softens the raw garlic, and the oil takes on a green tint.
Spoon it over chicken thighs straight from the tin, letting it mingle with the hot juices. It's sharp and slightly fiery, perfect with a big tomato salad any time of year. Store leftovers in a sealed jar in the fridge and use within a few days.
7. Honey Mustard Sauce
Sweet meets sharp, and somehow neither one wins. Two mustards make the difference here, because smooth Dijon brings heat while wholegrain adds little popping seeds.
Whisk two tablespoons of runny honey with one tablespoon each of Dijon and wholegrain mustard. Loosen with a splash of cider vinegar and a couple of tablespoons of olive oil, then season.
Want it creamy? Stir in a spoonful of mayonnaise or crème fraîche instead of the oil. For a warm version, whisk the basic mix into the roasting tin juices on a low heat.
Drizzle it over carved breast meat, which can taste a bit plain on its own. Leftovers work as a dip for cold chicken or a dressing for a potato salad. Keep it in a clean jar in the fridge for up to a week.
8. Lemon and Herb Butter Sauce
Butter, lemon and herbs sound like a small trio, yet they wake up even the driest slice of breast. Got five minutes and a lemon? You're sorted.
Once the chicken is out, pour away most of the fat from the tin. Add 100ml of chicken stock and the juice of half a lemon, scraping up the sticky bits as it bubbles.
Take the tin off the heat and whisk in about 40g of cold butter, a few cubes at a time. The sauce turns glossy and silky rather than greasy when the butter melts gently.
Finish with chopped parsley, a little thyme and some grated lemon zest. Keep heat low after the butter goes in, or the sauce can split into oily puddles. Served over sliced chicken with new potatoes and green beans, it tastes like spring arrived early.
9. Roasted Red Pepper and Walnut Sauce
Syria and Turkey share a dip called muhammara, and this sauce leans heavily on its flavours. Sweet peppers, toasted walnuts and smoky paprika make a thick, brick-red spoonful.
Drain a jar of roasted red peppers well, then blitz them with 75g of toasted walnuts. Add a garlic clove, a teaspoon of smoked paprika, a squeeze of lemon and a few tablespoons of olive oil.
Muhammara often includes pomegranate molasses, which adds a tangy, fruity depth if you have some. A handful of breadcrumbs thickens it nicely too.
Toast the walnuts in a dry frying pan and watch closely, as they scorch fast. Walnuts are tree nuts, so warn guests with allergies. Serve it with roast chicken, flatbreads and a crunchy cucumber salad for a relaxed Saturday spread.
10. Mint Yoghurt Sauce
Cool, tangy and flecked with green, this sauce feels like a cold drink on a hot afternoon. It sits brilliantly beside chicken rubbed with cumin, paprika or garam masala.
Stir a small handful of finely chopped fresh mint into about 200g of thick Greek yoghurt. Add a grated garlic clove, a squeeze of lemon and a pinch of salt.
A little grated cucumber, squeezed dry first, turns it closer to raita. A pinch of ground cumin brings a gentle earthiness that suits spiced chicken.
Give it 15 minutes in the fridge so the mint and garlic soften into the yoghurt. Spoon it onto hot chicken and the contrast in temperature does half the work. Pile everything into warm flatbreads with sliced red onion, and Sunday leftovers become a midweek feast.
