Sweet Tea Fried Chicken

This is a more contemporary dish of the American South. I've seen it pop up in various places recently online and in print; various famous persons with Southern heritage and a culinary bent have prepared this recipe for a receptive public. Yet somehow, whenever I mention the concept to associates or acquaintances, I receive blank, vapid stares (at best). 

For a people that are immensely proud of their culture, I have found that many Southerners are loath to experience anything new, culinarily speaking, even simple variations on epicurean standbys. Fried Chicken is an excellent example of this.

When you look at it, face value, it seems to be a logical, inevitable step. This is a food culture where everyone's mother makes the BEST fried chicken in the county. A culture that consumes cold black tea by the gallon, with enough sugar in it to send otherwise healthy people from cooler latitudes into diabetic shock. And further, a culture that has a tendency to marinade meats for days at a time. Weeks, sometimes. The idea of combining these techniques and qualities into a single, glorious picnic dish was WAY overdue.

So here it is. Now I'll warn you, this takes an amount of preparation. Start on this two days before you want to serve it. Another thing: this is a picnic recipe. What I mean by that is this is a recipe that holds well after cooking, and in fact tastes better cold. Don't ask me how, just does. Eating a leg now.

So, let's get on to the Whys and Wherefores. I started with one whole, young chicken. Cut it up into eight pieces (2 legs, 2 thighs, 2 breasts, 2 wings) and set it aside. Now work on your brine. It's the most important part of this process. Here are your ingredients:

1/2 gal. Black Tea, DOUBLE STRENGTH
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup kosher (or sea) salt
1 lemon, cut into slices

Mix all ingredients. Simple, huh? A point, though: Mix your sugar and salt in while the tea is still very hot. Trust me, it makes all the difference in the world.

Now, bring the temperature of your Sweet Tea Brine down. I don't much care how; let it rest for a while, pop it in the freezer for a half hour, whatever. Just make sure that the tea is (at most) room temperature. You don't want to prematurely cook your chicken, even a little bit. It will prevent the flavor from seeping into your meat. When your brine is nice and cool, proceed thusly:

Place your chicken pieces into a large bowl, pour in your brine, and give it a good stir to ensure full coverage. Now cover, set in the refrigerator, and wait for two days. Yup, two days. Read War & Peace. Watch the first four seasons of Buffy. Go to work. Have a beer with total strangers and make them feel jealous over your chickeny goodness. For, umm.. two days. Yeah, I didn't think that last one through. If you MUST do something in relation to your upcoming meal (and it's a pretty good idea), every few hours or so give the chicken pieces a good rearranging to ensure even coverage. 

Provided everything has gone smoothly up to now, it's been two days and you're ready to cook. You'll need to bread the chicken. I recommend a simple, single coating consisting of:

2 cups AP flour,
1 tbsp garlic powder,
1 tbsp onion powder,
2 tsp black pepper,
1 tbsp sea salt

Sift all ingredients together.

Remove your chicken from the brine and set on a wire rack to drip drain. When no longer sopping wet (but still very damp), toss in your seasoned flour. Set aside.

Get your pan ready. Set over low-medium heat and add your cooking oil of choice. I prefer a mixture of butter flavored shortening and canola oil, but that's just personal taste. If at this time you can see through the flour on your chicken, give it another toss and start cooking as soon as your oil comes to temp.

Cook until the chicken reads 165 degrees F internally, and when stabbed with a fork the juices run clear. If you have a trace of pink, toss it back in. While cooking, turn every few minutes.

Because of the color the brine will give your chicken, it will be difficult for veteran chicken fryers to judge doneness by sight. You just kind of have to get a feel for it after the first couple of pieces.

Now, on to the eating! Again, I recommend letting it cool thoroughly, although it's still an experience nice and hot. For this meal, I served it with Sweet Potato Souffle and Strawberries, Cornbread, and a huge pitcher of Southern Sweet Tea.

Yes, I'm feeling a little homesick. 

Chicken & Waffles Benedict

Back in college, I took to hanging out with a small group of odd, likeminded people. We had very little in common, with the exception of an appreciation for beer and good food.  Two of them stand out in my memory, David Epps and Marcus Page. I vaguely recall a four-pitcher night with these two ne'er-do-wells when I SWORE that one day, when I was an Executive Chef in charge of an important venue or account, I would serve my clients Chicken & Waffles. Moreover, they would be GRATEFUL for it. I did not know it at the time, but that utterance has stuck with me to this day.

I got my first opportunity to do so with an Interim position with the Oregon Institute of Technology. For two months I took up the mantle of their Executive Chef. It started well enough, I kept a similar menu plan going as their usual and limited my creativity to catered events (with client approval, of course). After a bit the powers that be handed down the assignment of organizing a Weekend Brunch. My words from years ago crept back into the forefront of my brain, reminding me. Taunting. Daring.

You see, office management didn't come in on the weekends. But the Executive Chef implementing a new meal program? Yup, had to be there. It is said that there is no greater tyrant than the Captain of a ship at sea. The same can be said of kitchen leads with total menu control. Armed with this newfound combination of authority and freedom, I declared a standing menu for Sunday Brunch across the whole of resident dining: Southern Fried Chicken and Belgian Waffles.

Two thousand college students and faculty trapped in the Cascade Mountains LOVED it. It's now a permanent fixture on the menu, every Sunday, with lots of maple syrup and hot sauce. 

My inebriated promise had been fulfilled, but something felt unfinished.

The next source of inspiration came from my loving wife, Jenn. You see, she adores my Hollandaise sauce. I make it extra thick and extra lemony. Eggs Benedict and Asparagus makes for an excellent brunch, as well as an excellent excuse to whip up a pint of Stabilized Hollandaise. (details below)

On this occasion, we had it for three meals in a row. Overkill maybe, but you just can't beat a classic. After filling our bellies with poached eggy goodness, we began to discuss alternate methods of making the meal. I offered up my Breaded Oysters Benedict, or a variation with Crabcakes.  My wife suggests Waffles. She does make a lovely Waffle.

The concept reminded me again that I was not yet done with Chicken & Waffles. Or, more likely, Chicken & Waffles was not done with me.

As you can see from the pictures, it's a whole Belgian Waffle for the base. Make sure the batter is slightly sweet. I cannot go into detail about the batter; it's not my recipe and the missus may commit acts of aggression upon me were I to spill it.

Now, I used a Boneless Skinless Chicken Breast, butterfly cut to fully separate. Now much thinner, it is soaked in buttermilk and dredged in seasoned flour. The actual seasoning that goes into the flour is a bit of a family secret, as are the circumstances of cooking. I'm from the South. It's kind of how we do things. Either way, make sure your oil is good and hot before dropping your chicken in. It should instantly sizzle and scare you a little. Keep it going until it's golden brown on both sides, and make sure it's fully done. (165 F internal temp will suffice)

Per Jenn's suggestion, the pork product was Bacon. No real reason except that Bacon is so epic it deserves its own anime music intro.  Moving on.

Now the Hollandaise: There is a classic method of preparation that can be easily referenced. Or there are packets you can buy at the market and "just add water". If you're in a commercial kitchen, there is a very passable Hollandaise base that can be had. My approach is different: Start with a classical preparation, but make three alterations to the recipe. 1) do NOT use clarified butter. When it comes time to incorporate butter, use whole, unsalted butter cut into cubes and chilled. Toss in about a third of the butter at a time and keep your whisk moving. 2) After your butter is melted (but before adding lemon juice) throw in an ounce of heavy cream. 3) Use about three times the listed Lemon Juice.  If everything is done properly, you will have a very tangy and extremely stable Hollandaise.

The sauce for this particular dish is a Tabasco flavored Hollandaise. I substituted hot sauce for the vinegar component. It's not for everyone, but it does make a tasty alternative.

Assemble the components as shown, and dig in. With this recipe out of the way, it makes me wonder what else I can get into with Chicken & Waffles. Next stop: FINE DINING!!!