White meat or dark? Breast or thigh? Well, if I’m picking, it’s always gonna be a thigh … or a drumstick.
I had the misfortune of growing up in a world where fried chicken is as secondhand as the news. I mean, it feels like every time I’m in Tuscaloosa, there’s some new chicken place popping up that either sells tenders or boneless wings. Who doesn’t love some fried chicken? Yet, it’s getting a little excessive — and dare I say, lackluster.
Now that’s not to say I won’t go for a bucket of Guthrie’s or a C.O.B with cheese from Nick’s. For those uninitiated folks, a C.O.B literally translates to “Chicken on Bread,” and is quite a regional delicacy.
I remember living in a 1920s craftsman in Linden across the street from the now-defunct Church’s Chicken. Every Sunday just about we’d get in line with the rest of the churchgoers and get ourselves a 10-piece mix with some honey butter biscuits and all the fixings. When it wasn’t the Sabbath, my mother would hand me twenty bucks and tell me to get her a C.O.B and I could get myself a couple biscuits and a Coke if I wanted.
This may make you retch, but I used to take little chunks out of my biscuit and roll them into a ball big enough to fit into my straw. Then, I’d “shoot it” like a reverse BB gun straight down my esophagus. It’s a wonder I’m here relaying such a memory. However, I come by it honestly — my mother used to roll up balls of Wonder Bread when she was a kid and pop these bread BBs into her mouth, too.
Frying chicken was not something my family did much of. Catfish, sure, but I can count on one hand the amount of times I had homemade fried chicken that wasn’t Shake ’n Bake. I’d certainly hear stories like, “Oh, So-and-So wasn’t all there at the end, but boy could she fry up a hen,” and other such memories to tease my present tastebuds.
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before, but when I was in college I became obsessed with learning how to roast a whole chicken. Roasting, though, is much more forgiving than pan frying; and pan frying is much more forgiving than deep frying. I’ve had some of my most embarrassing slip-ups when trying to fry chicken. Whether the oil was too hot or the chicken sticking to the pot or coming out steaming hot yet still raw — I’ve really been on a journey with fried chicken.
Everybody seems to have a “secret” or particular way of frying that they swear by. For instance, my mother-in-law says layering the freshly fried chicken in a paper bag lined with paper towels, placing the pieces in layers that are separated by yet more paper towels keeps them warm and crisp. Additionally, this helps keep in the juices and any residual heat, much like letting a steak or pork chop rest after it’s cooked.
Others do all of the brining in salt water, dredging with an egg wash, and coating with flour; sometimes twice over. Not to mention I’ve heard of brines consisting of everything from sweet tea to pickle juice.
It wasn’t until I read “The Best Cook in the World” by Rick Bragg last year that I really had the gumption to make fried chicken. There I was exposed to yet two more secrets: no dredging and all movement. What I mean by that is you don’t let the chicken sit idle in the pot, instead always moving it about to make sure it doesn’t stick or burn.
Sure, it’s not an ideal position in this heat to be standing over a vat of fry oil, but gah-lee does some cold fried chicken hit the spot at a summer picnic. In fact, there’s another debate: hot or cold fried chicken?
At any rate, I successfully fried a batch of drumsticks this past week without any mishaps. You best believe I was over the moon to have a golden brown plate of drumsticks to serve with one of my favorite sides: slaw. I’m not questioning the calculus or the physics or whatever witchcraft made this batch of fried chicken so successful, but I’d like to think it was a newfound patience for the dishes that require it.
Here, then, is the way I have found works best for me when it comes to frying chicken.
Fried Chicken Legs
2 pieces of salt pork
2 lbs. drumsticks
1 cup flour
Salt, pepper, cayenne pepper to taste
4.5-quart cast iron pot
Gallon of peanut oil or the equivalent in lard/Crisco
Pour oil into 4.5-quart pot and bring to 350 degrees in temperature on medium-high heat. While the oil comes to temperature, add the pieces of salt pork to the oil. Remove once thoroughly fried.
Pat your drumsticks dry with a paper towel. In a small bowl, season the flour with the spices to your taste. Feel free to add any preferred dry seasonings in during this step. Mix the seasoned flour well.
Once oil has neared 350 degrees in temperature, coat the drumsticks individually, dropping them one-by-one into the frying oil as they’re coated. Shake off any excess flour before adding it to the oil. Be sure to keep the oil at a frying temperature by regulating the heat at times. The temperature will drop once chicken gets added, but will come back up during cooking.
With a set of tongs, continue moving, shaking, and otherwise disturbing the chicken as it fries. Fry chicken for 12 to 15 minutes until the drumsticks are golden brown. Place onto a tray or plate lined with paper towels, layering as needed. Let the chicken rest for five minutes or until cooled slightly.
When I was buying all this to fry up, one of the friendly cashiers at the Piggly Wiggly, Freida, asked me how I fried chicken. When I told her about the salt pork addition, she said, “Oh, you got those old country ways of doing it.” Which, if you know me, I took as a high compliment.
If you’re wondering what my tastes are in seasoning the flour, I add just enough cayenne to change it from white to pale pink, enough salt to make it sandy, and enough pepper to make you sneeze. What you end up with is not necessarily spicy as much as it is smoky. My family put Lawry’s Seasoning Salt in just about everything savory, so why not throw that into the mix?
If you’re wondering how I keep an eye on my temperatures, I swear by the handy-dandy candy thermometer. Don’t let the name fool you, you can use it to take the temperature of anything that’s liquid. Full disclosure, I bought it to make caramel icing, but do you know who is still too intimidated to learn? Besides, what am I gonna do with a 12-layer caramel cake?
But I digress. What I’ll leave you with is the only downside to frying chicken at home, described best by my friend, Ian: “I think to myself, ‘Why haven’t I been frying my own chicken this whole time?’ Then, fifteen minutes later, I go back into the kitchen and realize why.”
The whole house smelled like Church’s for about a day, which wasn’t so bad, but I can see how it can overstay its welcome. However, that’s a small price to pay if the scent of fried chicken is enough to bring even the neighbors over to see what all the fuss is about.
