Thursday, June 10, 2010

Fried Chicken

I am a Kentucky boy. That means I understand certain things, like the appeal of fast horses, the beauty of a pick and roll, and fried chicken. Tonight, we had that epitomy of Kentucky cuisine for dinner, with corn and peas (peas that traveled exactly 33 feet - 15 from their vine to my sink, 10 back to the grill, and then 8 to the table). Simple and perfect; here's my recipe.
Despite the understandable cries of blasphemy, we fry chicken tenders rather than "bone-in" pieces. The reason is that we generally prefer white meat and we generally do this on a week night. I will readily concede food is mostly best cooked on the bone and in the right spots, I agree that holds true with chicken. But for this recipe, a pound of well-trimmed tenders is perfect. Those tenders spend the night (or a long afternoon) in a salt-water. When they come out, I pat them dry and they are ready for the coating.
For my "breading", I use 1.5 cups of flour, with the following mixed in: 1 tablespoon of garlic powder, 1 tablespoon of paprika, 1 tablespoon of onion powder, 1 teaspoon of Cayenne Powder and generous amounts of salt and pepper. I also make up a wet coating, which is just 2 cups of buttermilk and 1 tablespoon of "hot chili sauce". We use "Sriracha Hot Chili Sauce". This should be in your referigerator. It keeps, well...forever, and has a rooster on the bottle; beautiful.
The chicken is double breaded: rolled in the flour mixture first, then dipped in the buttermilk, then again in the flour. When all the pieces are done, it needs to chill out thirty minutes or so in the refrigerator to "set up".
I fry it in peanut oil (for the high smoke point). I put about 2 inches of oil in a large pan and add bunches of thyme, rosemary, sage and a head's worth of garlic to the oil. No need to chop it or even remove the stems - just dump it in the oil. Turn the heat on the stove, and when the herbs begin to boil, add the chicken. When it looks perfect, it probably is, so cook it another 2 minutes to be safe (no one likes sushi chicken). There won't be left-overs. God bless Kentucky.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Mussels

We are a seafood family. If you are expecting a joke about eating whatever we "see", while it would be fitting, that is not what I meant. We love food from the ocean: fish, lobster, crab, oysters, shrimp, scallops, calamari and tonight: mussels. Here's how we make them.
First, you have to buy fresh, meaning ALIVE mussels. They sometimes have them at our Kroger, but they always have them at Fresh Market. For those in Lexington, Charlie's Seafood should be on your phone. Do remember this: if it is alive, it is going to urinate. So if you buy them any length of time before you plan to cook them, you cannot store them in a regular bowl (unless a "pee marinade" sounds good to you). You have to store them in a colander over a bowl, so whatever comes out of them drains away from them. Put a bag of ice on top. Don't spill the contents of the reservoir bowl in your kitchen floor. When you're ready to cook, scrub them under cold water and remove anything clinging to the outside (it's called a beard and isn't edible). You'll need between one and two pounds for two people. As a side note, because keeping them from ending up in their own excrement is cumbersome, Anthony Bourdain won't eat mussels in restaurants; he says it's not worth the risk the staff didn't bother. Hard to argue. Make your own.
You also have to make croutons. While chocolate cake, marinara sauce and pancakes may be just as good from the grocery store, store-bought croutons taste like packing peanuts next to mine. I'll confess it is a little work, although simple. I slice up a french loaf, paint the rounds with olive oil and kosher salt and toast them under the broiler until browned (on high if I am paying attention, on low if the kids are in the house or a ballgame is on). These croutons are mindless, but the window between golden and charcoal isn't huge.
Next, I make the broth. To a stock pot, I add some squirts (about 3 tablespoons) of olive oil in which I cook down half an onion, cut into thin slices. Once the onion is soft, I add 2 teaspoons of fennel seeds, 4 minced garlic cloves and 1/2 a teaspoon of red pepper flakes (like in the shaker at Pizza Hut). After one minute, this should smell wonderful. Then I add a quartered lemon, 1/4 C parsley and 1 Cup of white wine (this leaves about 2/3 of the bottle; I expect you know what to do with the remainder while you are finishing this dish).
Once the broth boils (producing the steam we need), it is time to add the mussels. Pop them in and cover your pot. After about three minutes peek in to make sure some are opening and then stir them around. Three minutes later, take them all out, discarding the ones that failed to open (as they were dead to begin with and their consumption is not the healthy way to lose weight, although it would be quick and effective, albeit with some risk of death).
Once you have the mussels out and resting, bring the broth up to a boil and reduce it to concentrate the flavor (just a little). Then place 3 or 4 (maybe 5) croutons in each serving bowl, add some mussels and broth, and top it all with diced tomatoes and parsley. If you can maneuver a bite of broth soaked crouton into your mouth with a mussel and some of the garnish, you will be well rewarded.