Chicken Drumsticks Make An Exciting Dinner

Not only do legs have built-in handles to help you devour every meaty morsel but, unlike most other parts of the chicken, they’re also encased in skin that can be rendered paper-thin and golden brown, an edible wrapper to the gift of succulent, tender meat inside. Drumsticks are easy on the cook too: They don’t require trimming, and there is leeway in the cooking time since the collagen-rich, unctuous dark meat doesn’t easily dry out.

Then there’s economics: Drumsticks are easily the least expensive part of the bird.

With so much to love, I hatched a plan: Create a feast of juicy drumsticks—their skin thin, lightly crisp, and coated in potent spices—to be dipped into a spunky sauce and eaten by hand. What could be more fun and convivial?

I kicked off my drumstick extravaganza with a time- and temperature-testing spree: evaluating long and slow roasting; experimenting with split methods (starting in a hot oven and finishing in a cooler one and vice versa); and considering salting and brining.

Ultimately, the easiest approach was also the best. I achieved terrific results by simply roasting the drumsticks in a 350-degree oven until they hit an internal temperature of 180 degrees (by this point, their connective tissue has dissolved into gelatin, turning the meat juicy and tender) and then flashing them under the broiler to deepen browning and ensure that as much fat as possible was rendered.

I placed the drumsticks on a wire rack set in a rimmed baking sheet for plenty of airflow, arranging them so their thick, meaty ends faced the hotter outside edge of the pan to produce the crispiest skin.

With my roasting method established, I wanted to try to conjure up a little kitchen magic: turning plain old drumsticks into a memorable meal by gussying them up with a potent spice rub.

I went for a bold, barbecue-esque blend that included salt and pepper, plenty of onion and garlic powders, brown sugar, smoked paprika, and cayenne for heat. The combination made sense on paper, but at the table, the spices came off as powdery and dry and tasted as if they hadn’t quite reached their full potential.

I recalled a test kitchen recipe for broiled spice-rubbed snapper in which coriander, cayenne, and other spices were hydrated with water and then thinned with oil before being brushed onto the fish.

The water and oil helped unleash water- and fat-soluble flavor compounds in the various spices, giving them fuller, more penetrating flavors and aromas.

Sure enough, water and oil were just what the spice doctor ordered here too. Now my drumsticks hit all the notes with vivid sweetness, smokiness, and heat.

For dipping, I mixed up a creamy white barbecue sauce (aka Alabama white sauce) by thinning mayonnaise with horseradish and cider vinegar and bumping it up with sugar, cayenne pepper, and black pepper.

The rich, lightly tangy sauce was a fitting foil for the smoky-sweet barbecue drumsticks.

Inspired, I dug deeper into my spice cabinet and came up with a variation that zhuzhes up earthy store-bought curry powder with brown sugar and a few choices from the warm-spice canon: ginger, nutmeg, cardamom, and smoked paprika.

The result was toasty and savory, with a sweet finish. And because one good turn deserves another, I paired the curry drumsticks with a cooling cilantro-ginger yogurt sauce that’s tart with lime and sweet with a drizzle of honey.

Regardless of which version you try, be sure the table is outfitted with a big stack of napkins when you gather round to dig in to these succulent, boldly flavored drumsticks.