As I was sitting in the drive-thru at Popeye's the other day, fond memories of sitting in the kitchen while my grandmother cook chicken replayed in my mind. The sweet aroma of frying chicken filled the air. My mouth watered with anticipation of eating the delightful pieces of chicken.
Chicken was a staple in my household growing up. Southern comfort food at its finest. Back in the day, salt and pepper was the only seasoning applied to the chicken. My grandmother would cut up a whole chicken and season it perfectly. Next she would put Crisco Oil sometimes shortening in the black caste iron skillet. Then she would put each piece of chicken in a brown paper bag filled with flour. Gently shaking the bag she made sure that each piece of chicken was evenly covered in flour. Once the oil was heated to its proper temperature she would place pieces of chicken into the skillet.
The sizzling sound of the chicken frying only served to make me more anxious to eat. Moving like an orchestra conductor, my grandmother moved back and forth between preparing other dishes for the main course to making sure that the chicken was cooked thoroughly and a beautiful golden brown. It was something to watch. Unfortunately for me, I didn't pick up on her or my mother's culinary skills. That's why I'm thankful for establishments such as Popeye's, Jack Pirtles (a local chain of restaurants) and Kentucky.
I love chicken practically in any form. Fried being the favorite, baked, broiled, barbecued, smoked, Cajun, blackened, marinated. I love it smothered in brown gravy, as soup, chicken and dumplings.
Fried chicken is like apple pie to baseball. It's the American way! You can't have a picnic without it. Family reunions wouldn't be the same. Church dinners would be a thing of the past! It's good hot out the fryer or served as a cold leftover.
I must admit there was a little blip in my love for chicken when I saw my great-grandmother wring the neck of a chicken in the yard on her farm. For a minute, I boycotted eating chicken. I mean I was around 10 or 11 and it devastated me to see the demise of that chicken. However, it didn't take me long to get over it.
When God created the chicken, He did a good thing. Needless to say, chicken is my favorite meat. If I'm not careful, I would eat it everyday. I thank all of the chickens who sacrificed their lives so that we could enjoy a little piece of heaven. You efforts have not gone unnoticed.
Okay so maybe that was a little extreme. But my love affair with chicken started as a little girl and is still going strong today!!
