Saturday, December 31, 2016

John Besh Fried Chicken

Here is the recipe from John Besh's latest cookbook:

Follow the link at the bottom of the page to order the book and to view the original article:

Here’s A Mouthwatering Step-By-Step Guide To Making The Most Insanely Delicious Fried Chicken

Literally nothing compares to that first bite of this crispy, crunchy coating and piping hot meat.

Literally nothing compares to that first bite of this crispy, crunchy coating and piping hot meat.
Lauren Zaser / Alice Mongkongllite / BuzzFeed
This is John Besh. He's one of the best Southern chefs in America and the one recipe he thinks everybody should learn to cook is his grandmother's fried chicken.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed
“One of my sons always asks for this fried chicken for his birthday,” says Besh, who has twelve restaurants, four cookbooks, and a James Beard award. “It’s his favorite meal.” 
He put the recipe in his newest book, Besh Big Easy, which is a collection of all the meals he actually makes for his family. “When I cook at home, I like things that you can make in a single pot or pan,” he says. 
And, it turns out, the best, most authentic, Southern fried chicken is the kind you can make with just a few ingredients, in one skillet.

So we asked him to show us (and you, obvs) how to make it.

Here is everything you’ll need to make the fried chicken:

Here is everything you'll need to make the fried chicken:
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed
Chicken, salt and pepper, canola oil, celery salt, cayenne pepper, garlic powder, flour, and buttermilk.

1. Set the chicken pieces on a cutting board and season liberally with salt and pepper on all sides.

Set the chicken pieces on a cutting board and season liberally with salt and pepper on all sides.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed
Besh started with a whole chicken, then cut it up to end up with two wings, two thighs, two drumsticks, and four breast pieces (cut each breast in half). You can see a video of him butchering the chicken at the bottom of this post.
If you don’t want to cut up a chicken — hey, NO SHAME — just buy three pounds of bone-in, skin-on chicken. A mix of breasts, thighs, and drumsticks is great, but you could use only your favorite parts, if you want.

2. Transfer the chicken to a large bowl and add the buttermilk, then let it sit for at least 15 minutes. Meanwhile, stir together the flour with the seasonings.

Transfer the chicken to a large bowl and add the buttermilk, then let it sit for at least 15 minutes. Meanwhile, stir together the flour with the seasonings.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed
If you want — or, if you plan far enough in advance — you can marinate the chicken in the buttermilk for as long as 12 hours. If you’re marinating for more than 20 minutes, cover and refrigerate the chicken-buttermilk mixture as it marinates.

3. Heat 1 to 2 inches of oil in a heavy skillet (cast iron is best) or Dutch oven over high heat.

Heat 1 to 2 inches of oil in a heavy skillet (cast iron is best) or Dutch oven over high heat.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed
“The more oil you have, the more consistent the temperature will be,” Besh says. “With less oil, it’ll fluctuate a little more, and you might get dark spots. It’s a little harder to get that beautiful, crisp crust.”

4. When the oil reaches 350°F on a deep-fry thermometer, turn the heat down to medium. You’re ready to fry!

When the oil reaches 350°F on a deep-fry thermometer, turn the heat down to medium. You're ready to fry!
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed
You want to keep the oil as close to 350°F as possible for the entire cooking process, so you might have to adjust the heat of your burner up or down a little bit.

5. Transfer 3 to 4 pieces of chicken from the buttermilk to the flour mixture, letting any excess buttermilk drip off.

Transfer 3 to 4 pieces of chicken from the buttermilk to the flour mixture, letting any excess buttermilk drip off.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed
You want the chicken to be wet enough that the flour will stick, but not dripping.

6. Use your hands to pack the flour onto all sides of the chicken, then, working with one piece at a time, shake off any excess flour…

Use your hands to pack the flour onto all sides of the chicken, then, working with one piece at a time, shake off any excess flour...
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

7. …and carefully place the dredged chicken in the hot oil.

...and carefully place the dredged chicken in the hot oil.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

8. Repeat with 2 or 3 more pieces of chicken. Make sure your oil temperature doesn’t drop lower than about 340°F. Try and keep it at 350°F.

Repeat with 2 or 3 more pieces of chicken. Make sure your oil temperature doesn't drop lower than about 340°F. Try and keep it at 350°F.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

9. Let the chicken fry for about 6 minutes, until it’s lightly browned on the underside.

Let the chicken fry for about 6 minutes, until it's lightly browned on the underside.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

10. Use tongs or a slotted spoon to carefully flip each piece of chicken.

Use tongs or a slotted spoon to carefully flip each piece of chicken.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

11. Cook for 6 more minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and both sides are golden brown.

Cook for 6 more minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and both sides are golden brown.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed
Bigger pieces pieces will take longer to cook than the smaller pieces.
Besh knows when the chicken is done just by its golden brown color, because he’s a true pro. If you don’t trust yourself to know, you can cut a piece open and make sure it’s cooked all the way through (no pink), or you can insert a meat thermometer right into the middle of the piece of chicken. “I’d take it out at 140°F,” Besh says. “The politically correct answer would be 160°F, but if you take it out at 140°F, it’ll carry over.” 
By “carry over,” he means that the chicken will be so hot its internal temperature will continue to rise even after you take it out of the oil, so it’ll hit 160˚F anyway.

12. Lift the finished pieces of chicken out of the oil and transfer them to a paper towel-lined plate or baking sheet.

Lift the finished pieces of chicken out of the oil and transfer them to a paper towel-lined plate or baking sheet.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

13. Repeat the process, cooking 3 or 4 pieces of chicken at a time, until all the chicken is cooked. Season the cooked chicken with a little more salt and pepper, as soon as it comes out of the oil.

Repeat the process, cooking 3 or 4 pieces of chicken at a time, until all the chicken is cooked. Season the cooked chicken with a little more salt and pepper, as soon as it comes out of the oil.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

14. We asked Besh if he serves his fried chicken with any kind of sauce, and he suggested Tabasco honey…

We asked Besh if he serves his fried chicken with any kind of sauce, and he suggested Tabasco honey...
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

…which is literally just honey with a little Tabasco mixed in.

...which is literally just honey with a little Tabasco mixed in.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

Turns out, Tabasco honey is really, REALLY good, and you should put it on everything.

Turns out, Tabasco honey is really, REALLY good, and you should put it on everything.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

You can spoon it right onto a crispy piece of chicken…

You can spoon it right onto a crispy piece of chicken...
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

……… !!!!!!!!!!!!!!………

......... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!.........
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

… or you can serve the chicken straight-up, with the honey on the side.

... or you can serve the chicken straight-up, with the honey on the side.
Lauren Zaser / BuzzFeed

Grandmother Grace’s Fried Chicken

Makes 6 servings
Recipe by John Besh, from Besh Big Easy
For this recipe, you can use a whole chicken cut into 10 pieces, or you can just buy 3 pounds of bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces. Make sure the breasts are cut in half and the drumsticks and thighs are separated. 
For the chicken:
3 pounds bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces, preferably from one whole chicken
Salt and pepper
1 quart buttermilk
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon celery salt
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Canola oil, for frying
For the tabasco honey:
1/2 cup honey
1 teaspoon tabasco, or more to taste. 
For the chicken:
Season the chicken pieces generously with salt and pepper. In a large bowl, soak the chicken in the buttermilk for at least 15 minutes. The idea is that the lactic acids tenderize the chicken. Sometimes my grandmother would even put the soaking chicken in the fridge overnight.
Mix together the flour, celery salt, garlic powder, cayenne, salt, and pepper in a large bowl. Dredge each chicken piece in the seasoned flour to coat well. The batter should just barely adhere to the chicken, so make sure you give each piece a little shake to let extra batter drop off before frying. 
Heat about 1 to 2 inches of canola oil in a heavy skillet or Dutch oven until it reaches 350°F (get a deep-fry thermometer here). Place a few pieces of the chicken in the oil — you can’t do more than 3 or 4 at a time without causing the oil temperature to drop, which makes for greasier chicken — and fry for 6 to 8 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, turn each piece over, then cover the pan to cook for another 6 minutes. The chicken is done when it’s deep brown, cooked through. Drain on paper towels and salt well.
For the Tabasco honey:
Mix the honey and Tabasco in a small bowl and serve alongside the chicken, for dipping or drizzling.

For more authentic Southern recipes you can actually cook at home, check out Besh’s new book.

For more authentic Southern recipes you can actually cook at home, check out Besh's new book.
Get it here ($25).
1) Pull the leg away from the body make a cut in the skin right where the thigh meets the body. Once you’ve cut the skin, pull the whole leg backwards to pop the joint and pull the leg off the body. Repeat with the other leg.
2) Cut the wings off right at the second joint (where the wing meets the breast). 
3) Remove the breasts by cutting lengthwise down the breast bone. Use your knife to scrape the breast meat away from the ribs, all the way down, until the breasts are completely detached. (Besh used his hands to just rip the meat off, which is another option.)
4. Cut each breast piece in half, crosswise.
5. Cut the legs into two pieces each (the thigh and the drumstick): Do this by cutting diagonally through the leg joint that separates the thigh and the drumstick. You’ll have to push down on your knife, but it should go through fairly easily when you find the joint.

Original article here:

Thursday, December 29, 2016

Fried Chicken Recipe from Food52

They say, "fried chicken as it's meant to be" but from the photos...well, that looks like some mighty overdone (cough *burned* cough fried chicken). Where's the golden brown color? Spice-wise and ingredients-wise it looks like a pretty good recipe. But I would remove the chicken when it reaches a golden color and finish in the oven to assure that the chicken is cooked through but still a nice color.

At any rate here is the link and the recipe in case you ever want to try this one. Be sure to read the comments sections as there is very valuable information contained there.

Food52 Fried Chicken As It's Meant To Be Article

The Recipe

Fried Chicken as It's Meant to Be

You know you love your great aunt's banana bread, but you probably don't know why you do. In Modern ComfortAshley Rodriguez from Not Without Salt figures out what makes our favorite classics work, and then makes them even better. 
Today: How to crack the code on fried chicken (no matter how far away you are from the South). 

Portland, Oregon has bicycling Darth Vaders, 1890s-style facial hair, plenty of plaid flannel, and Pine State Biscuits. It’s also the home of the original Pok Pok, some of the best coffee in the country (I don’t say that lightly -- I’m from Seattle), and a few of our closest friends. Needless to say, my husband and I frequent this fair city quite often. Even though there are dozens of new restaurants to try each time we visit, it’s always Pine State Biscuits that I crave.
 It’s The McIsley -- a towering biscuit with shattering fried chicken, honey, and pickles that bite you back -- that lures me in. After several trips and many long waits in line, I decided that this was a project that I needed to conquer in my own kitchen.
Here’s the thing: I don’t have tales of Grandma’s legendary fried chicken and my cast-iron pan didn’t come to me by way of many generations of friers -- it came from Amazon. I am about as far away from the South as you can get, and yet I was determined to crack the code on fried chicken. 

That is the sort of project that I love: taking a classic recipe and rethinking it -- dissecting all the parts, not just the ingredients but also the method, and putting it back together in a way that produces a dish that just might challenge the original. It’s the sort of project I’ll be regularly taking on in this column.
To produce flavorful fried chicken with a thick, crisp crust, I start with a dry brine, which is a mix of several different dried herbs and spices including thyme, marjoram, and garlic powder. I find a dry brine to be less cumbersome than submerging all the meat in a liquid brine, plus it really saturates the meat. Before the chicken pieces are fried, they’re dipped in a subtly tangy buttermilk and egg and dredged in flour. Not only is the flour laced with baking powder and cornstarch, which give the crust lift, lightness, and a crackling finish, but it’s also flavored with spices used in the dry brine so that both the crust and the chicken are herb-infused.

The real kicker here is that the chicken pieces (I prefer boneless, skinless thighs) are dipped into the buttermilk and flour mixture two times so that the ratio of meat to perfectly thick, crisp, and well-seasoned crust is practically 1:1. In my cookbook, this chicken sits on a black pepper biscuit with pickles, a drizzle of honey, and plenty of seedy mustard -- my homage to The McIsley. When I’m not in the mood for biscuits I prefer a piece of fried chicken between two pieces of fluffy white bread along with mayonnaise and pickles.
Make enough for leftovers and enjoy the thinly sliced cold fried chicken over a bowl of greens. 

Serves 4
For the spice mix:
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried marjoram
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons kosher salt
4 boneless, skinless chicken thighs (about 1 pound)
For the flour and buttermilk dredges:
1 cup (140 grams) all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon cornstarch
1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1 cup (240 milliliters) buttermilk
1 egg
4 cups vegetable, canola, or peanut oil, for frying

Sunday, November 20, 2016

A Vintage Fried Chicken Recipe From Chicago

A very interesting story about the re-creation of a long gone fried chicken recipe from a restaurant in Chicago.

Trying to get the Mandis fried chicken right

WBEZ listener Nancy Rosman asked the Curious City project by WBEZ to help her find a recipe for the fried chicken she loved at the long-closed Mandis the Chicken King in Portage Park. Intrigued by the request, Food & Dining agreed to help WBEZ reporter Monica Eng develop the recipe. Through Eng's research and testing by the Tribune test kitchen's Lisa Schumacher, here's the recipe we developed.
Even if you're not a big foodie, you've probably got a dish that holds special meaning for you — a food that can instantly transport you to a time and place when things were rosier, simpler or just really delicious.
Now, imagine losing that dish forever.
That's what happened to Nancy Rosman when Mandis the Chicken King closed in the early 1970s. The restaurant had operated in the Portage Park neighborhood at Montrose and Central since the 1940s, and it served a fried chicken so special that Rosman remains haunted by it today.
"It was French fried chicken, but it didn't taste particularly greasy," she recalled. "It was very crunchy, but light and just really fantastic. I've tasted a lot of fried chicken and nothing has ever been like this."
Rosman has searched for the recipe — mostly through online message boards — for more than a decade, with no luck.
She asked if we could find the Mandis recipe and also reveal recipes from other long-gone Chicago culinary institutions.
We agreed to take up the fried chicken challenge. But instead of tracking down a slew of other Chicago dishes you may or may not remember, we've created a guide to help you with your own hunt for the recipes you really care about. (To mutilate an old saying: Give a reader a fish recipe and you feed him for a day; teach a reader to fish for recipes and you feed him for life.)
To assemble this guide we talked to a couple of pros: writers who've been recipe sleuthing for many years. They're Tribune food writer Bill Daley, and Monica Kass-Rogers, who writes a blog called Lost Recipes Found, after a series of columns on the subject she did for the Tribune.
Both have been amazed by Chicago's appetite for elusive old restaurant recipes.
"There's a huge nostalgia for long-ago restaurants," Daley said. "People want to remember an important dish or an important meal."
Kass-Rogers remembered when she first put out a call for lost recipes.
"We were inundated with hundreds and hundreds of requests," she said. And a whole category of those recipes was for defunct restaurant dishes.
Here are shortcuts, skills, insider tips and theories they've developed over the years. I'll present them here through the lens of my journey seeking the magic of Mandis the Chicken King.
Tip 1: Make sure you have the right name, address and time period for the place that served the long-lost recipe
This was our first challenge. Rosman recalled the restaurant name as "Mandas." But after searching archives using different variations on the name, we discovered it was actually Mandis, and that made the research a lot easier. Daley said he's seen this a lot.
"You'd be surprised at how often the initial information is wrong," said Daley. "People's memories can be very hazy."
Mandis ad from 1963 in Chicago Tribune
Tip 2: Dig into newspaper archives
Daley noted that you often can get clues from ads, stories about the restaurant and, sometimes, the big prize: a complete recipe that the paper already published.
The Chicago Tribune offers a digitally searchable archive that spans more than 100 years. Other local papers have to be painstakingly searched — page by page — through pre-1985 microfilm. But the Tribune archive is vast, and if you have a Chicago Public Library account, you can access it for free online. That's where I found a 1963 ad by Mandis the Chicken King that offered a clue, they used birds called spring chickens.
Tip 3: Search for old employees or those still connected to the place
Unfortunately, both of the owners — Bill Mandis and Nick Doukas — have passed away. I did, however, find a Tribune article and later a RedEye piece indicating that Chris Liakouras, the co-founder of Chicago's Parthenon restaurant, had served as a waiter at Mandis when he first came here from Greece in 1960. Unfortunately, he didn't remember much.
But through online searches about Mandis restaurants, another named turned up, Max Pars, who took over the Mandis space with his restaurant Pars Cove in the early '70s. He recalled a little more.
"It was a half chicken with coleslaw and fries," he said between filling orders at Pars Cove, now located in Lincoln Park. "Some Sundays I would get 150 orders for it. People from downtown would order and they would come and pick it up. It was good fried chicken."
Pars says he continued to serve the chicken after he took over the building with his Persian restaurant — mostly because customers kept asking for it. But within a year, he said, he was told by the previous owners' family he had to stop.
Tip 4: Track down the owner's next of kin
Since the two original owners had passed away, I reached out to the Mandis and Doukas kids listed in obituaries — or at least people with their same names. Most of my attempts, through emails, calls and Facebook messages, struck out.
Still, Daley said next of kin have often been good sources of information for him, noting, "a lot of times the kids are really excited to talk about it and share those old memories."
I did hear from a Mandis daughter, who told me that the recipe "died with my dad." And one Doukas brother seemed a little perturbed when I called him at his job in the Chicago suburbs. He hinted that he had the recipe but didn't want to share it. Instead, he offered two ingredients: "flour and water." This, at least, told me it was a battered chicken, but I was still miles away from a recipe.
Then, a week later, just when I thought I'd hit a brick wall, I got an email back from another Doukas brother, Ted. He agreed to chat on the phone.
"I basically grew up in the restaurant," said Ted, who works in international investments. "We lived just a couple of blocks away and I worked there when I was in school."
He confirmed that the recipe exists, but it's "still pretty much a family secret."
"When we had the restaurant, there were several people who wanted to buy the recipe and were willing to pay money," he explained. "But my father and uncle didn't want anything to do with that."
No matter how much I begged, Ted wouldn't give up the recipe. But he did offer crumbs.
"It's not a complicated recipe," he said. "There are a couple of things they did differently from what other people who made fried chicken would do. …. One thing I will tell you — and keep in mind the restaurant started in the 1940s — is that we did not use vegetable oil. It was all cooked in lard. That is one of the things when people try to think about how it tasted, that helped create a unique flavor to the chicken."
Ted wouldn't tell me anything about the spices, but he did confirm his brother's hint about the batter. He further told me where they got their chickens: from a purveyor still operating in Chicago today, Cougle Commission Co.
Tip 5: Consider what the ingredients were like at the time.
So what would those milk-fed spring chickens have been like at the time?
I called the Cougle Commission Co. and talked to president Lee Friedheim. He told me that they don't sell milk-fed spring chickens today, but it probably doesn't matter.
"Spring chicken just meant a tender, young chicken," said Friedheim, who thinks he even delivered chickens to Mandis the Chicken King in his teens. "The chickens I delivered were just regular three-pounders. And today chickens are ready so soon (about 39 days), that all of them are like spring chickens."
This point was important, because if you are trying to recreate a long-lost flavor, ingredient quality matters, Daley reminded me.
"Things change," he said. "I mean, would you say that today's milk has the same quality and flavor and texture that it did in 1950 or the '70s? No."
The same goes for lard. Today most of our lard is made with hydrogenated, factory-farmed hog fat from industrial breeds. But back during the Mandis heyday, it would have likely come from fatter, heritage breeds that lived outdoors — and would probably not have been hydrogenated. I tracked down two tubs of such old-fashioned lard made from the fat of Berkshire hogs raised outdoors at Faith's Farm in Kankakee County.
Tip 6: Cultivate anonymous sources.
I can't tell you much about this tip except that sometimes — if you advertise through social media that you are looking for something — a source will come out of the woodwork with information that can't be attributed. That was the case for one of our sources who didn't know the complete recipe, but said he/she believed the chicken was first washed and soaked in vinegar and water, then dipped in a batter that contained sour cream and sat overnight.
The vinegar is a traditional method in some areas of the south and the Caribbean. There, folks use it to clean the chicken and get rid of any "funk." But the sour cream was a new one for me. We consulted with Chicago's legendary cook, author and restaurateur Ina Pinkney. But she'd never heard of a sour cream batter that sat overnight.
"And the thing that worries me is if it was in the fridge it would just stay the same, like buttermilk," Pinkney said. "But if you let it sit on the counter fermenting all night and it gets fluffy, then what? I can't imagine what you would do with it."
Tip 7: Fill in the gaps
"If you can't get the exact one, you can try to create a facsimile of one thereof," Kass-Rogers said.
"You can often piece something together based on existing recipes from the period and as many clues as you can use to tweak it.," Daley offered.
This is what we did with the final recipes we tested and presented to Rosman.
After a few hours of consulting with Tribune food editor Joe Gray and recipe tester Lisa Schumacher, we started with the smallest — almost 3-pound — chickens we could find. We soaked them in vinegar and water, which gave them a clean feel and slightly tangy flavor. We made a batter with cornstarch, sour cream and baking soda that sat on the counter all night, getting bubbly. We then came up with a plan to try five variations of ingredients and dredge- and- dip methods. And we cooked the chicken in lard.
The next day we invited Nancy Rosman down to the Chicago Tribune test kitchen, asking her to eat a few preliminary rounds before digging into the final version.
"This looks like a very crackly piece of chicken," she said. "The crust looks like you have a lot of places where you could pick it off. It smells very good and looks like it's inviting you to take a bite."
She crunched. She chewed. She opined.
"This is very good fried chicken," she announced. "In terms of the elements I remember, you've gotten very close. But if you had that exact fried chicken now, I think I could pick it out from this. People who had eaten at Mandis might not say that this is exactly like Mandis, but it's pretty darn close and definitely worth making."
This is when I remembered yet another tip that both Daley and Kass-Rogers offered.
Nancy Rosman, left, tasted five versions of the recipe in the Tribune test kitchen before we made the final batch that followed all of the clues we were given. WBEZ reporter Monica Eng interviews Rosman about the results. (Katherine Nagasawa/WBEZ)
Tip 8: Be prepared for disappointment because, sometimes to capture the exact flavor, you just had to be there
"Sometimes the recipe takes on this aura that it was much more delicious than it really was," Daley said. "And when you're a kid, your taste buds are one way and they can be different when you are 50 and sometimes memories burnish the palate."
Kass-Rogers agreed that often the dishes people are looking for are more about recapturing "a specific event and people who were sitting around a table."
"Then," she said, "everything about that meal shines in the golden glow of memory, including that dish."
Rosman is well aware of this.
"Part is the 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' factor. I tend to romanticize things that are no longer there," she said. "But as you get older you start to treasure some of the thing you lost, whether they're food, recipes or people you associate with special tastes. I associate the recipe with a special bond with my dad and with my family and with our offbeat adventures. But there was something about it that will never be as good as anything else. ... The fact that it came from a neighborhood joint and you could afford it and it was something you would never do at home."
So a word of warning to recipe sleuthers: Even if you find the exact recipe, the dish may never taste the same, because the real magic was in the overall experience.
Other tips from Kass-Rogers and Daley
• If the recipe comes from a suburban restaurant, check the town's historical society for old community cookbooks or some sort of archive of local dishes.
• Talk to the Culinary Historians of Chicago: Kass-Rogers said, "A lot of these folks used to be the people who wrote the food columns in the city and if they don't know the recipe they might know someone who knows someone."
• If you can't get the actual recipe, consider a recipe from that region and era. "I have hundreds of cookbooks in my home categorized by region and era for that reason," said Kass-Rogers.
Monica Eng is a WBEZ food and health reporter. This story is a joint project between WBEZ and the Chicago Tribune.
The final version of the chicken had a crisp, light textured crust and juicy meat tasting a bit tangy from the vinegar-water soak. (Michael Tercha/Chicago Tribune; Lisa Schumacher/food styling)
Almost Mandis fried chicken
Cook: 16-18 minutes per batch
Developed in the Tribune test kitchen by Lisa Schumacher. Although Mandis used chicken halves, you may cut the chicken into smaller pieces.
1 to 1 1/2 cups water
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon ground black pepper
1 whole chicken (3 pounds), cut in half lengthwise
1 quart distilled white vinegar, about
1 quart water, about
Salt and pepper to taste
1 tablespoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon poultry seasoning
1 For the batter: In a medium bowl, mix together 1 cup flour, the corn starch, sour cream, 1 cup water, baking soda, salt and pepper until well blended; let rest overnight, covered, in a warm place.
2 For the chicken: The next day, place chicken halves in a large stockpot; pour in enough vinegar and water in equal parts to submerge the chicken. Allow to soak, 45 minutes. Drain; pat chicken dry. Season chicken with salt and pepper.
3 For the coating: In a bowl, mix together remaining 3 cups flour, salt, pepper and poultry seasoning.
4 Heat enough lard to fry the chicken in a Dutch oven or other high-sided, heavy-bottomed pot to 350 degrees. Dip each chicken half in the dry mixture, coating all sides. Shake off excess. Dip into the wet mixture, coating all sides; let excess drip off. Dip again in the dry mixture, coating all sides; shake off excess.
5 Place 1 half chicken at a time in the hot fat; fry until well browned, 15-18 minutes. Remove and allow to drain on a rack over paper towels. Repeat with remaining chicken half. Serve hot. 

Sunday, October 2, 2016

Michael Ruhlman's Fried Chicken Recipe

I am posting this recipe because I am intrigued by the rosemary added to the brine portion. It looks to be a good, buttermilk based recipe. But, I haven't tested it out at present. This recipe is from FOOD52's website.

Michael Ruhlman's Rosemary-Brined, Buttermilk Fried Chicken

Every week -- often with your help -- FOOD52's Senior Editor Kristen Migloreis unearthing recipes that are nothing short of genius.
Today: Fried chicken you just can't mess up.
More often than not, if you are like me, you probably want fried chicken for dinner.
But fried chicken seems like trouble, doesn't it? You'd sooner wait for a road trip to Mississippi than get frying yourself. And what if -- once you commit to frying your own -- its crust is soggy, its meat forgettable?
Well, just stop it. Here, thanks to Michael Ruhlman, is a fried chicken that will not fail you, that is speedy enough to fit into your busy, tired, chicken-deprived lifestyle, and that is more than worth what little trouble it asks of you. 
ruhlman's twenty  michael ruhlman
Ruhlman learned many (but not all) of his best fried chicken tricks while working on Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc at Home -- and streamlined them, as is his way, in his own book Ruhlman's Twenty. Food52er vivanat tipped me off to the ease and the payoff of this recipe, and now I'm a convert. You will be too.
For starters, he uses just the thighs, legs and wings (to many, the good parts). Breaking down whole chickens has virtues, but you don't need to do that here. 
He brines the chicken, which is key to keeping meat flavorful and moist, and he does it well. Shauna Ahern, of Gluten-Free Girl and the Chef, once told me, "His ratios are perfect. Whenever [my husband] Danny made a brine, he called me from the restaurant to read him Ruhlman's."
pot  slicing onions
Not just perfect, but shockingly quick to throw together. I tend to get all zen and methodical in the kitchen, and dramatically underestimate how long it will take me to get from point A to point B. Many Genius Recipe testing sessions end at 1am. My sous chefs hate me. And still, despite myself, it took me 15 minutes to go from chicken in grocery bag to chicken brining in the fridge.  
How does this brine get so flavorful, so quickly?
brine onions
Namely, how do four cloves of garlic and a whole sliced onion go into a pot with one teaspoon of oil over medium-high heat, and quickly sweat into a soft puddle, without browning (or burning)? I didn't think it could be right, but I followed Ruhlman's directions, to the letter. 
I was forgetting about all that salt (it is a brine, after all). It instantly goes to work on the onions, drawing out their moisture, which pools in the bottom of the pot and helps it all swiftly cook down in its own juices. Then you toss in rosemary branches and finish it off with water and lemon. Boil, ice bath, throw your chicken in it. Wonder why it's not 1am.
brine  brine
The recipe calls for brining overnight, but I've also done it for much less time, and it's still good. Once, when pulling this chicken out of its briny bath, my brother pointed out that this was the most delicious-smelling raw chicken he'd ever encountered. It's frankly a little jarring -- for good reason, raw poultry doesn't smell irresistible. You'll just have to control yourself.
Brining behind you, tempting raw chicken messing with your mind, it's time for dredging and frying. This crust is one of those stand-on-its-own, thick, shaggy, crunchy affairs. Ruhlman credits the Ad Hoc kitchen with showing him the ideal seasoned flour-buttermilk-seasoned flour coating, but he trims down the ingredient list, focusing on what's important: lots of pepper, paprika, and cayenne -- and baking powder, for extra lift and crispiness. 
It's the kind of crust that you'd normally want to steal off other people's drumsticks and leave them the meat lingering on the bone. But remember that brine! As intoxicating as it smelled before cooking, it smells -- and tastes -- even more richly of rosemary and lemon, the salt having pulled it deep into the flesh.
frying chicken
The meat is so juicy, the crust so proudly crusty, you can fry it ahead and re-crisp in the oven when company arrives, which will give you plenty of time to wipe down the stove, shower, and pour yourself an early glass of wine. (Have you ever tried to deep-fry chicken while guests are standing around getting drunk? They ask an awful lot of questions.)
Best keep them away till the big reveal -- and what a reveal it will be.
Adapted very slightly from Ruhlman's Twenty (Chronicle Books, 2011)
Serves 6 to 8
1 small onion, thinly sliced
4 garlic cloves, smashed with the flat side of a knife
1 teaspoon vegetable oil
3 tablespoons kosher salt
5 or 6 branches rosemary, each 4 to 5 inches long
4 1/2 cups water
1 lemon, halved
Fried Chicken:
8 chicken legs, drumsticks and thighs separated
8 chicken wings, wing tips removed
3 cups all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons paprika
2 tablespoons fine sea salt
2 teaspoons cayenne pepper
2 tablespoons baking powder
2 cups buttermilk
Neutral, high-heat oil for deep-frying (like canola)
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Photos by Karen Mordechai