At least that’s how it works in my house. It’s indulgent and special, a delectable treat. So give it your all, make it celebratory, in fact. Which means…
…beginning with the best chicken available – on the small side – around three pounds or under. I use a beautiful little bird from my favorite local poultry grower, Tea Hills Farm. Truly, when a bird is this fresh, no pre-seasoning or brining is necessary, but I do like to putter, so into the bowl go robust slices of Extra Hardy German White garlic from Thaxton’s, thyme sprigs from my herb pot, sea salt, sweet paprika ( bright and true tasting from Penzey’s, not the dullard powder of the ubiquitous red tin), the juice and zest of one lemon. Rub the lot well into the pieces of chicken. Chill overnight.
Next day (although this is often my starting point), rinse the chicken pieces in cold water and pat pat pat dry. Give them an overnight soak in a buttermilk bath, laced or not, with a sploosh of hot pepper sauce and more sweet paprika, a pinch of salt.
Bring the chicken to cool room temperature before frying. Generously season about two cups all purpose flour mixed with about a quarter cup of cornstarch with salt and pepper. Dredge each piece of buttermilkydrippy chicken in the seasoned flour and lay on a rack while heating the cooking fat to 340-350.
If I’m going to the trouble of making Once a Year Summer Celebratory Fried Chicken, you can bet that I’ll be frying that worthy bird in plenty of the best locally sourced leaf lard I can get my hands on. Thank you, Jessica.
It was quiet in the frying kitchen, just the bubble, gurgle and hiss of chicken magically turning a deep, crackling bronze on the exterior, while remaining tender and juicy on the interior. When the chicken reaches this stage of divine plucky perfection, remove and allow pieces to drain on cooling rack, salt to taste.
I set the table with her great grandmother’s hand-embroidered Ukranian linens. The fried chicken was plattered and placed between us. Simplest Corn Pudding was scooped out of another smaller cast iron skillet, and freshly-squeezed lemonade, steeped with coral slices of local peaches was served with gingered simple syrup for sweetening. A lunch, a celebration, a feasting, the two of us. It isn’t everyday that your only daughter gets her driver’s license. Here’s to safe and steady, my love.
