1 teaspoon ground oregano
1 teaspoon chili powder
1 teaspoon ground sage
1 teaspoon dried basil
1 teaspoon dried marjoram
1 teaspoon pepper
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon paprika
1 teaspoon onion salt
1 teaspoon garlic powder
2 tablespoons Accent (MSG)

Unfortunately, it’s still pretty difficult to duplicate the fast food chain’s cooking methods, since they use pressure cookers to fry their chicken. However, the home cook does have the advantage of being better able to drain the excess grease from the fried chicken, since we’re not cooking dozens of chickens at once. Also, home cooks have the option of buying better quality, organic, free-range chicken if they choose to. The Guardian even claimed to have come up with what they call a superior mix of herbs and spices, that doesn’t include MSG. This is their recipe and recommended process, the best I can interpret it from the article, as they only roughly describe the process, but they do give a detailed listing of their choice of herbs and spices. The recommend poaching the chicken in milk to insure the chicken is cooked completely to the bone, but that’s a step I’ve never seen in any fried chicken recipe.

“It’s worth noting that chicken marinaded and poached in milk has an unbelievably suave flavour and texture, and that the poaching liquid thickens to create the most soothing cream of chicken soup I’ve ever achieved,” says the article.

1 half gallon whole milk
1 whole chickens, each cut into 8 pieces
1 tsp smoked paprika
1 tsp mustard powder
1 tsp sage
1 tsp celery seeds
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp dried onion flakes
2 tsp salt
1 tsp ground black pepper
1 tsp ground white pepper
2 cups all-purpose flour
peanut oil for frying

Cut the chickens into 8 parts, splitting the breast in half to allow for even cooking, and saving the backs, necks and wing tips for stock. Marinate overnight in the milk. The next day, lightly poach the chicken in the milk bath for 15 minutes. Remove from heat, and drain. Use enough peanut oil to make a depth of 1 inch in a frying pan. Bring up to 350º heat. While the oil is coming to temperature, mix the spices with the flour. Coat each piece of chicken with the flour mixture, and let set for a couple of minutes, then re-coat each piece. Fry the chicken in the oil, 6 minutes on each side, or until the coating is golden brown. Remove the chicken to a rack and allow excess oil to drip off.

The results were ok. Nothing fantastic. Each piece of chicken was fully cooked, but I didn’t really detect the suave flavor and texture described. In fact, some of the skin was a little chewy and flabby. And frankly, the coating did not come near the flavor of KFC, or any other chain-store fried chicken place I’ve tried. In fact, I’d say it was comparable to cheap grocery store fried chicken.

In the end, my wife and I just didn’t think it came close to competing with my personal favorite recipe for fried chicken, which I think is better than anything you can buy. What I may do, though, is use most of my technique from that recipe, but try to spice it up with the different herbs and spices from these new recipes. Look for that in the coming weeks.

“U 91 : Brunswick County, Virginia — The Original Home of Brunswick Stew.”

“According to local tradition, while Dr. Greed Haskins and several friends were on a hunting trip in Brunswick County in 1828, his camp cook, Jimmy Matthews, hunted squirrels for a stew. Matthews simmer the squirrels with butter, onions, and stale bread, and seasoning, thus creating the dish known as Brunswick stew. Recipes for Brunswick stew have changed over time as chicken has replaced squirrel and vegetables have been added, but the stew remains thick and rich. Other states have made similar claims but Virginia is the first. (Department of Historic Resources, 1987)”

The first Brunswick stew was made here in the Brunswick - Golden Isles area in early colonial days. It remains an American favorite. Christopher K. Jones, Troop 224 Eagle Scout Project, 10-17-88"

There are as many recipes for Brunswick stew as there are southern cooks.  There’s even major disagreement about where Brunswick stew originated, with Virginia and Georgia both claiming credit.  Some folks say you need squirrel, others say rabbit, others say just chicken is fine.  But Camille Glenn writes in her cookbook that THE essential ingredient for Brunswick Stew is a bone from a country ham.  Corn and lima beans may also be essential (at least Craig Claiborne thought so).  Other than that, be inventive.

We’re soliciting comments from some real southern cooks out there who know how they make their grandmother’s Brunswick Stew.  Meanwhile, here’s a basic recipe:

1. Simmer your ham bone for an hour in a large pot with several quarts of water.
2. Add various meats you have on hand (chicken, rabbit, squirrel, what have you) with bay leaves, thyme, parsley, celery ribs, whole or diced onions and peppercorns.  Simmer uncovered until tender (2 hours). (note: it appears that many cooks brown the meat first in peanut oil or bacon drippings, sauté the holy trinity (onions, peppers and celery) and then add the ham bone + water).
3. Remove the meat and set aside.
4. Strain the stock and skim off (only) some of the fat.
5. Add vegetables (tomatoes, carrots, chopped celery, chopped onions, potatoes, lima or butter beans, corn and chile pepper).  Simmer uncovered until vegetables are cooked (45 mins).
6. Bone the meat and return to kettle.  Add more water if needed.  Simmer 15 minutes.  Add salt & pepper as needed.
7. Serve with corn bread or white rice.

Variation 1: add more spices such as paprika, onion powder, dry mustard, garlic powder, and savory a la Paul Prudhomme.

Variation 2: add red wine vinegar and juice of 2 lemons.

Question to all you authentic southern cooks out there: Do you all ever add okra to Brunswick Stew?

“You’ll need to begin preparing the ham two days before you will get a bite of it.”

One of the most delicious meals you can serve in many areas of the South is a country ham.  Salt or sugar cured, hickory smoked or not, Smithfield or Kentucky, peanut fed or otherwise, there ain’t nuthin’ like a country ham.  It comes in a cloth bag and is wrapped in paper, not in a can or wrapped in plastic.  It’s big, solid and heavy, like a short baseball bat (or a small bellhousing).  It smells musty and smokey.  And it takes some planning to prepare and serve.

We New Englanders grew up eating canned ham and not liking it all that much.  But one year, according to legend, our grandmother (yankee through and through) once received a very special gift: a country ham from Smithfield Virginia.  Finding no cooking directions on the bag, she glazed it, baked it in her oven, and served it.  Finding it inedible, she threw it out, saying she could not understand why Virginia hams had such a reputation.  “Not fit for a dog,” claimed she.

Our grandmother had no clue about Camille Glen’s (Heritage of Southern Cooking) admonition that ”you’ll need to begin preparing the ham two days before you will get a bite of it.”  Day 1: scrub the ham, soak it in water for 12 to 24 hours (possible to use a cooler for this operation). I have heard the fable of soaking your ham in tea instead of water, but I’ve never tried it. My guess is that tea is a “fancy” way of doing it that most people just plain skip (why would you want to flavor your ham with tea?); more fundamental is whether or not to soak and if so for how long (some folks who sugar cure hams say don’t soak at all) Day 2: put the ham in a large roaster, cover completely with water, bake 2 hours; turn, bake another 2 hours; leave in the water overnight (some say boil in a big ole’ pot).  Day 3: remove ham skin and fat (an entertaining process); baste (I baste with brown sugar, maybe with some corn starch, a typical ham baste), bake 20 to 30 minutes; allow to rest for 1 hour, then slice exquisitely thin. Serve with pickled watermelon rind, baked yams and other delicious stuff.

For several years I painstakingly prepared Virginia country ham for my germanic midwesterner inlaws at Easter.  Finally growing tired of the incessant criticism about it being too salty, not moist enough, took too long to cook, made a mess, etc. (note: these are the same folks who claim stone ground grits taste like warm wallpaper paste), I stopped bringing the extraordinary hickory smoked Smithfield ham.  “Where’s the ham?” they asked.  “I left it at home,” I replied. ”You all said it was too salty.”  “Didn’t mean we didn’t like it,” they replied.

4 thick, center cut pork chops
1 cup salt
½ cup brown sugar
1 gallon water
3 slices country bacon, diced
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups chicken stock
1 tablespoon oil
salt & pepper
2 medium onions, sliced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves, chopped

Take a couple thick center cut pork chops (preferably not enhanced pork) and brine it in a mixture of water, salt and brown sugar for several hours in the fridge.

When ready to cook, cut 3 slices of good country bacon into 1/4 inch dice and fry it in a saucepan over medium heat until crispy. Fish out the bacon bits with a slotted spoon and set aside. If the bacon grease doesn’t equal 2 tablespoons, add enough oil to make it so. Whisk in 2 tablespoons of all purpose flour, and cook this mixture over medium heat until it’s darkened to the color of peanut butter, stirring frequently. Add 1 and a half cups of good chicken stock (either home made or canned, low sodium), mixing constantly until incorporated. Heat to a boil, stirring often, then cover, and set aside.

In a frying pan, heat over high heat, 1 tablespoon oil until smokey. Dry off the pork chops with paper towels, season with pepper, and put in the frying pan, making sure they’re not overlapping, and brown each side for 3 or 4 minutes. Remove from pan and set aside.

Reduce the heat, add a touch more oil, and 2 medium sliced onions, a teaspoon of salt, and a couple tablespoons of water. Cook this for 5 minutes, scraping the brown crusties from the pork chops from the bottom of the pan, until the onions are clear and the edges are lightly browned. Add 2 crushed cloves of garlic and a teaspoon of fresh thyme, and cook for another minute or two. Add the pork chops back into the pan, again in one layer, and cover with the onion mixture, and the gravy. Lower the heat and cover the pan, and simmer for 30 or 40 minutes (or until the meat thermometer reads 160).

Remove the chops one more time to a heated serving plate, and cover with foil. Reduce what’s left in the pan over high heat for 5 minutes or so, stirring often.

Serve the chops smothered in the gravy over mashed potatoes, rice or egg noodles. Sprinkle the bacon bits over the top.

Soup was a possibility, but my boys love fried chicken. So fried chicken it would be (and no, I had not seen my brother’s posting before making this decision).

So, as my brother asks: “what breading?” I started making a batter coating that has been successful in the past, but then thought better of it. I grew up in Connecticut, but I now live in Virginia. How do Virginians make southern fried chicken?

To find the answer, I looked in some of my favorite southern cookbooks. [Footnote: Camille Glenn’s The Heritage of Southern Cooking is a true authority from which I have learned a lot. I also sometimes look at Craig Claiborne’s Southern Cooking since I know it’s meticulously researched. I haven’t picked up the Lee brother’s book yet, but plan to one of these days.]

The authorities I consulted were consistent: the coating is flour mixed with some salt and pepper (Claiborne cautions that “pepper is important in this recipe”). Thus, Southern Fried Chicken is really very simple. Take some chicken. Rinse and dry it. Coat it in flour mixed with some salt and pepper (you can shake in a bag if you like). Shake off the excess. Fry in hot oil (preferably in a large cast iron skillet) for 8 minutes, turn over and fry another 12 minutes (or more) until it’s “cooked through”. (Ms. Glenn talks about covering the skillet for the first eight minutes, presumably to reduce the spatter. She has you take off the cover when you turn it because you have to watch it).

How do you know when it’s “cooked through”? Good question. Undercooked chicken is dangerous. This is where experience comes in. Ms Glenn has the experience to know when its done just right. Lacking that, do what I did – simply take out a piece, cut it up and see if it’s done.

Other variations: Claiborne tells you to soak the chicken in milk with some tabasco sauce for an hour before your coat. I did not do this. Claiborne seems to always put in something extra to make it special. I knew my boys wanted plain old fried chicken.

Of course, eating this stuff every day is not good for you. It’s also not good for your kitchen – the oil spatters and you have a big mess to clean up. But the kids do love it!!

Any real southerners out there with comments? How did your grandmother make fried chicken?