What's in a name?

I have a confession to make. Until recently, I would have told you that roasting and baking were, for all intents and purposes, the same technique. Roasting, perhaps, would imply work with vegetables or meats. And I have to say that, despite my newfound knowledge, I still see (and in all likelihood continue to use) these terms switched and swapped and otherwise confounded into one general idea.

So I should guess that you may be asking "What is this all powerful difference that grants cooks across the globe the right to call it something completely different, and is it really that important?"

Why, it's elevation, my dear Watson!

Be it via rack or a large diced mire poix (an aromatic combination of one part carrot, one part celery, and two parts onion), elevating the item in question changes the heat transferance method from conduction (hot thing - in this case the pan - touching the food directly) to convection (hot air from hot thing - in this case still the pan - wafting around the food and cooking it).

The end result is largely the same, with a couple of differences along the way. Roasting tends to be more even, since it's circulating hot air doing the work instead of a hot pan on one side (imagine trying to cook a steak without ever flipping it - by the time the top was anywhere close to done your fire alarm has been going off for five minutes). Of course baking isn't quite as disastrous as that no-flip technique would be, but the principle remains. Also, there's the matter of the juice. I love me some drippings. They make a great sauce (which I'll get to later). What I don't like, though, is the idea of whatever's in that pan simmering in it (I'm roasting here, not braising). Elevating the roast means that the drippings can actually drip down, gathering flavor from any mire poix in the bottom of the pan, and otherwise waiting patiently for your wondrous saucemaking skills.

Now, the actual technique of roasting? It's pretty simple. For simplicity's sake, we'll talk about roasting some form of meat, rather than vegetables (which, by the way, is probably the most common culprit when it comes to calling something roasted when it's actually baked... but let's face it, "baked red potatoes" just doesn't have the same ring to it).

A) Sear the meat. This can be done either in a pan on the stove, or by using high heat (maybe 450) for maybe 10-15 minutes in the oven to give it a nice brown crust.

B) Cook to the proper temperature - 145 (for 15 minutes), or 165 if stuffed. Note that poultry still should hit 165 regardless.

C) Remove from oven and let it rest. How long depends on the size of the thing. Sure, you can tent some foil over it or put it into a warm oven (200 or so degrees) if you want to be extra-super-duper-sure that it won't go cold.

D) Devour with a vengeance.

If you think about it, this largely means turn on the oven, insert item, and let cook. It doesn't get much simpler than that. Roasting is a beautiful thing.

There are, i'm afraid to say (or would be, at least, if they weren't so handy and/or delicious), footnotes to check out along the way.

First off, trussing. This just means wrapping some butchers twine around the meat to hold it in the shape you want while it cooks. In the case of a bird, this can help to keep the legs closed to hold in any stuffing that you may have (and hopefully did) put inside. Please note that by "stuffing" I don't necessarily (or at all, really) mean the classic Turkey Day bread stuffing - I mean something as easy as throwing in some butter, herb stems, and maybe some lemons.
For a roast (meaning pig, cow, llama, you name it), not only will it hold in any stuffing but can also be used to form the whole thing into a nice uniform shape, which means even cooking, which means even deliciousness.

I'd try to describe the actual proceedure, but I just don't feel that simply writing it would get the idea across. But hey, if you've made it here that means that you've got internet access (go you) and you should be able to find a video demo out in cyberland pretty easily. Trust, it's not that hard to do.

Next, we talk sauce. I like this part.

There are those who tell you that a roasted item is not complete without an accompanying sauce. In any case, my practical tomorrow isn't. So here's the deal. There are three types of sauce that you have to choose from.

Jus - Basically just drippings from the roast, maybe fortified with some stock. Add any other flavorings you want (onions, garlic, fresh herbs, you know the drill)

Jus lie - Same thing, just slightly thickened with pure starch. Cornstarch or arrowroot are the main choices. Arrowroot has a lot of extra benefits, but is of course more expensive as a result. I suggest a simple slurry (cornstarch plus just enough water to give the consistency of heavy cream) to thicken it up a bit. It won't take much - one tablespoon of slurry is enough to bring two cups of liquid to a "medium viscocity". Yeah, saying "medium viscocity" is kind of like saying "medium yellow". Just know that it doesn't take much, and you can always add more if you want.

Pan gravy - This time the drippings are thickened with flour (there will be plenty of fat in the drippings to smooth it out). This is done by what's called "singer" (pronounced 'sahn-zjay'). Essentially you're just dusting the pan with flour, then mixing it in. Then add your stock, or whatever liquid you choose. Note that any aromatics (like that garlic and onion) should be tossed into the pan before the flour.

And always, always deglaze the pan (usually wine, but anything acidic works) first. That's how you get the fond (the little black bits of delicious) up from the bottom of the pan.

Roasting is pretty simple, all told (but hey, most good food is). Toss it in the oven, fix up the sauce while it's resting, and you've got an impressive dinner on your hands.

Call it baking, call it roasting, for all I care you can call it mommy, but I call it delicious.