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The night Julia Child came to dinner

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Nowadays, like many things, most people have given up on frying their own chicken. There are so many places to buy it ready-fried, and some of them are not half-bad. From the Colonel to local joints, to grocery stores and even Wal-Mart, more often than not if you get fried chicken, it came from someplace else. I have it on authority that many a hostess has carefully arranged fried chicken on a nice napkin in a lovely basket then thrown the bucket in the neighbor’s garbage can. People will drive miles for a famous chicken joint, or pick it up just around the corner. The big iron skillet of chicken bubbling away in hot grease is just a memory for many people, something a grandmother or beloved housekeeper used to do. At the mention of frying chicken now, I hear people groan or sigh – it’s so messy, frying makes the house smell, all that grease all over the range. Yes, grease splatters. Yes, the smell of that grease tends to linger, but homemade, cooked-with-love fried chicken is such a special, special offering that everyone should have the opportunity to dig into a juicy, crispy piece at least once. It may not make you abandon the bought chicken forever, but it will create your own Fried Chicken memory.

Fried Chicken

I have watched and read and practiced and learned over the years to become a pretty good chicken fryer. I have my not so good batches every once in awhile, but that hasn’t put me off. It’s a fine meal that is always appreciated.

So here are my tips for some chicken fried love.

First, you must marinate the chicken in buttermilk so the meat is moist and tender.

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