double dipped fried chicken

Folks, if I were a student in a class full of arteries and ventricles, my teacher would shake his head in disapproval and send me home with frowny face notes that say things like “Meg is a bad influence on the other students,” and, “Meg got into another fight today, the other student was hospitalized.” You see, every once in a while — usually when I’m in the dairy aisle adding 16 sticks of butter to my cart — I do a calculation of how much butter the husband and I eat on a monthly basis. The results are staggering, and we frequently take turns attempting butter interventions on each other depending on which one of us is of stronger will power on a particular day. One such intervention occurred recently when the husband had a taste of a delicious cherry macaroon tart and asked (in what I thought at the time was a very judgy kind of voice, but on reflection realized was mere curiosity) “How much butter is in this?” When I told him 10 tablespoons, he choked, and I hastily added “That’s not a lot of butter!” He looked at me incredulously, and it hit me. I’m a butteraholic.

Filled with butter addiction and shame, I decided I needed to make a change. A heart healthy change. With no butter. And so I decided to make double dipped fried chicken.

FAIL.

“Oh, don’t worry, there’s no butter,” I explained to the husband, “but the arteries — SHOT.” Oil pops burned my arms in judgment as I dipped the dredged chicken, but I soldiered on. And, two chicken’s worth of fried chicken later, the husband and I congratulated ourselves on our freedom-from-butter-addiction-mile-stone. I did later see the husband buttering a potato role while making a fried chicken sandwich, but I didn’t let him know I saw him. I wanted him to feel he was doing well in the program. And I wanted some leverage in case he caught me later.

One Year Ago: Pork Empanadas

Double Dipped Fried Chicken
Adapted barely from Bobby Flay

Serves 4 to 6

1 quart buttermilk, plus 2 cups
Kosher salt and crushed red pepper
2 teaspoons chile de arbol powder, or 2 tablespoons hot sauce, plus 2 teaspoons cayenne pepper (optional)
2 chickens (3 to 4 pounds each), each cut up into 8 pieces
4 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1 tablespoon onion powder
1 tablespoon sweet paprika
Peanut oil, for deep-frying

In a large bowl whisk together 1 quart of the buttermilk, 2 tablespoons salt, 2 teaspoons of chile de arbol powder, or hot sauce (if using), and a little bit of crushed red pepper. Add the chicken pieces, turn to coat, cover, and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or overnight.

Place the remaining 2 cups of buttermilk in a bowl. Stir together the flour, garlic and onion powders, paprika, and 2 teaspoons chile de arbol powder or cayenne (if using) in a large bowl. Divide flour mixture among 2 shallow platters and season generously with salt and pepper. Drain the chicken in a colander and pat it dry. Dredge the pieces a few at a time in the flour mixture and pat off excess, then dip in the buttermilk and allow excess to drain off. Dredge in the second plate of flour and pat off the excess. Put the chicken pieces on a piece of waxed paper or on a clean platter while you heat the oil.

Pour about 3 inches of oil into a deep stock pot; the oil should not come more than halfway up the sides of the pot. Put the pot over medium-high heat and heat the oil to 375 degrees on a deep-fry thermometer. Working in batches, add the chicken pieces to the hot oil, 3 or 4 at a time and fry, turning the pieces occasionally, until evenly golden brown and cooked through, about 20 minutes. Remove from the oil with a slotted spoon and transfer to a rack to drain; repeat to cook the remaining pieces. Serve hot.