I wouldn’t exactly say any of the cooking was “smooth sailing”, and we were
all pretty much exhausted by the time four o’clock rolled around. At least
I can say that the good thing was was that there was only one recipe to be
followed, and now that its committed to memory, it will be that much easier
next time. Although it was a long, hot day spent over the stove, it was all
worth it.
There has always been a thing in my family about
the biscuits: mom gets them frozen because she gave up on her homemade ones
a long time ago, and mine typically fall flat and taste like hard dog
biscuits. But my brother, on the other hand, learned from the master himself–
Jack Fincher. Our next door neighbor, Jack, has always had the most chemically
balanced, perfectly crispy and fluffy (all at the same time) biscuit recipe.
As he is a local pharmacist in town, he has had many years to perfect his
process, and that is obvious in the product of his scientific method. He
taught my brother to make them just the way he does, which is something
that my mom and I have both been a tad touchy about. We aren’t touchy
because he taught my brother, but that my brother can do such a good job
making them. So on an occasion such as this, Mom and I have to call in
the big man himself.
All of that went alright, but then Mom started
making her pie crust that she raves about every time someone says they’re
going to make a pie. “Jaynie!” she says, “you have to watch me. You’re
going to die when you try this crust!” She was totally wrong. Almost to
the brink of tears, she remade the pie crust twice with no success. I’m
still not really sure if we know what went wrong, but it took a good two
hours for us to finally give up and go to the store for a ready- made one.
Despite the store- bought crust, you could still taste all of the love in
our apple pie. It was served for desert with a large scoop of French vanilla
ice cream.
I don’t mean to brag, but my fried chicken is seriously
delicious. It’s the only recipe that I’ve ever made my own and perfected.
Jack Fincher taught me that the most important part of making good fried
chicken is to let it brine over night (brine means to let it soak in salt water).
This way, the chicken is tender after it’s fried, instead of the tough, dry meat
you can get sometimes especially after a lot of cooking. So in a plastic bag,
I season my flour with whatever I decide that I like, which usually includes a
bit of cayenne pepper. There is a secret ingredient, too, that makes for the
crispiest and lightest breading, and it’s a pinch of baking soda in the flour.
After I’ve done that, I beat together a few eggs and some buttermilk, and if
you’re feeling crazy, add a bit of beer. You can even use the beer that you
found lying around the house from last night and skip the buttermilk if you’re
not in the mood to go to the store.
Mom and I had two iron skillets going at once. This way,
you don’t get stuck frying chicken for days! Typically, using just regular
lard is the best way to fry chicken, but ours was a vegetable based Crisco.
If you notice that the outside of the chicken is cooking faster than the
inside, turn down the heat and cover the pan with whatever lid you have lying
around, or even a cookie sheet. It helps with the splattering and with thorough
cooking.
From the left over grease, I made my rue and cooked
it until it was ready for milk. Whisking constantly for nearly five minutes,
our Sunday night meal was coming closer to being ready for the table. The only
thing was, after cooking for such a long time and using the rest of our energy
singing Natalie Cole, we were almost too tired to eat.
