Chapter 1. Fried Chicken
Oregano, brown sugar, paprika, salt, cinnamon, cayenne pepper, and old bay.
Let that chicken marinate. And no, raw chicken shouldn’t be on the top shelf especially not next to cold brew, but here we are.
The Flour Mix: Unbleached white flour, whole wheat flour, cornmeal, paprika, oregano, and salt. Always use the smallest dish possible to batter your chicken . . .
Snap, crackle, pop
The Set-up
Although I’m not very old and my memory is pretty vivid, it’s also insanely fragile. My long-term memory is much better at landmarks than actual dates. with people, places, and emotions functioning as the markers for files in my memory cabinets.
One of my first memories of fried chicken can’t be traced to an exact date and probably wasn’t the first time I’d eaten fried chicken, but it’s the first one that comes to mind.
I remember being old enough to be cognizant of having moved to a three bedroom apartment, with a small living room that would eventually have a bright orange couch. I remember not having cable, but also not missing it since I’d thus far grown up watching mostly public television and listening to Christian radio shows. I was still considered the middle child and didn’t have to share my birthday yet.
The exact time is blurry but I recall my dad coming home during daylight hours to bring my mom fried chicken from Lexington Market. Since my dad worked late night at a car factory and in his art studio during some days, I feel like I only saw him when it was dark or on the weekends. Either way, there was a lot of hooplah about this chicken, especially since it seemed to get my mom in a good mood, as well as me and my four siblings, hoping we’d get a piece.
The box of chicken would be revealed, my mom would take a break from doing a million things I’m sure, and my siblings and I would close in on her while her and my dad tried to talk about something I never cared to pay attention to.
I remember my dad often bringing my mom home treats like this, of her favorite food things, and my siblings and I clamoring to “get a taste”. I don’t know if getting such a small amount of chicken was because the chicken was expensive or my dad just wanted it to be special for my mom. Either way, this memory is one of the few that remains fairly vivid in my heart, and is one that has left sort of blueprint for how I view fried chicken.
Fried chicken is a precious treat, makes everyone happy, is an expression of love. For me all of that culminates into it being a symbol of joy. Therefore, similar to roast chicken, fried chicken is a staple comfort food for me and in times of ongoing distress is one I turn to immediately.
In the thick of my quarantine when I was working remotely and contemplating the futility of life, I definitely went against the tradition of reserving fried chicken for special occasions and began eating it every week to stay somewhat sane. Whether it was homemade or from the blasphemous factory that is Popeyes, I needed something to remind me that life has hills and valleys, especially since hugs had begun to be off the table.
When I am making fried chicken from scratch, this is my all-time favorite, go-to recipe. It’s been adapted by my mom, and I believe she got the original recipe from a John Shields cookbook. She’d only make this chicken for birthdays, special occasions, or when her girlfriends were visiting.
It’s distinctive feature is the use of Old Bay, a Maryland origin spice blend that is typically used on crabs or crab cakes and distinctly smells like summer to me. I do a 3-step battering method when I make this recipe, but you can also simply coat the chicken in flour once and it’ll still be amazing, I do that when I want fried chicken and am feeling lazy.
The Receipt - Chesapeake Bay Fried Chicken
4 pounds Whole Chicken, broken down into pieces, or 4 pounds of your favorite chicken pieces
1 quart Buttermilk, store bought or homemade*
6 cloves Garlic, peeled and smashed
¼ cup Spice Mix**
3 cups All-purpose flour (separated into 2 cups and 1 cup)
4 medium Eggs
½ cup Milk
4 cups Oil for deep frying
*Homemade Buttermilk (Combine in a large pitcher or container):
8 cups Milk
¼ cup Vinegar (any kind) or lemon juice
**Spice Mix (Combine in a small bowl, makes ~8 tablespoons):
3 tablespoons Old Bay Seasoning
1 tablespoon Paprika
1 teaspoon Cinnamon
1 teaspoon Cayenne pepper, red chili flakes or hot sauce
1 teaspoon Black Peppercorn, freshly ground
2 tablespoons Kosher Salt
Directions:
Place chicken in a large bowl, rub pieces with a ¼ cup of the spice mix, and then add buttermilk and garlic cloves. Cover with plastic wrap or transfer to a plastic container with a tight lid. Allow to marinate overnight or about 4-6 hours.
Heat oil in a medium sized stock pot, or deep fryer if you have it, and bring to a temperature that’s hot enough to toss in a pinch of flour and cause it to sizzle. Then set up a sheet pan with a wire rack so your chicken doesn’t sit in oil or steam when it’s done cooking. Paper towels on a plate also work well.
To create a kind of chicken battering assembly line, place each of the following into medium sized bowls: The 1 cup of plain flour by itself, the eggs and milk whisked together, and 2 cups of flour with 2 tbsp. of spice mix in a small bowl.
Dip the chicken pieces into each bowl in the order they appear above. You can discard the buttermilk liquids. I usually fry dark meat first since it takes longer, and sometimes even place it in a 200F oven to keep it warm and also make sure it’s thoroughly cooked (which should be an internal temperature of 165F or more). Then cook other smaller pieces and white meat.
When you’re done frying everything serve it with your favorite salad, waffles, or make sandwiches with the pieces.
NOTE: After you’ve marinated the chicken you can batter it up however you like, but in my recipe I like to use a 3-step battering method which is explained above (not demonstrated below though). The reasoning behind this is so that the skin gets crispy and brown while keeping the interior meat tender and juicy. However, feel free to simply dip the chicken in just the seasoned flour and fry from there, it’ll taste awesome either way!
Postscript
I cooked this part of the gallery for a good friend of mine just four days before COVID-19 shut NYC down, I started it on March 14th, and the following Sunday shared it with her for brunch. I remember feeling deeply cognizant of the pandemic, but still in a state of “that’s happening over there”. We’d gone out for drinks the night before, and while sitting at the most empty bar we happened upon an article saying ”don’t go out to a bar tonight”*.
The next day during our brunch we were sharing butter and other spreads with our chicken. I didn’t realize my life would be completely transforming in just a few days, especially since we were on the cusp of spring, such a hopeful time of year. Usually, I emerge from the dark thoughts of winter with the help of spring’s whispers of a summer that will top the previous year’s. That emergence hasn’t happened for me yet, but nostalgia and food have been my main source of escape from this persistent winter.
*although they changed the article title to say brunch for some reason. . .