Country Fried Chicken

CJ has been coming down from Huntsville more during the pandemic—working from home means he can work from anywhere, including his parents' house, and he has spent three weekends with us in the last month. I am not complaining. I am quietly, fiercely glad. To have my son at this table on a Saturday morning, eating French toast from the kitchen where he grew up, talking about his work and his Huntsville apartment and whether he is okay, which he is, mostly, in the way that people are mostly okay when they are grieving and working and living and trying to do right by themselves—this is a gift that the pandemic has given us in exchange for everything else it has taken, and I am taking the gift.

CJ has been cooking more. He calls me with questions—specific questions, not the general "how do I cook this" but the technical ones, the ones that say he tried something and it didn't work and he wants to know why. Last week he called and said his cornbread was dense. I walked him through it: too much flour, not enough buttermilk, the skillet not preheated. He called back the next day and said it was right. I said, "I know. Come home and I'll show you the cast iron." He said, "Mama, I have a cast iron." I said, "Calvin Junior, does it look like glass or like metal?" He paused. He said, "Metal." I said, "Come home."

He came home. I showed him how to season a cast iron skillet properly—the multiple thin layers of oil, the oven at 450, the hour-long bake, the cooling, the wiping—and he did it himself and he was attentive and careful and he has his grandmother's hands, I saw it for the first time clearly on Saturday, the way he held the skillet and the way his palm tested the heat and the way he adjusted without being told. Bernice's hands. Still going forward. Still here.

After CJ left that Sunday with his newly seasoned skillet wrapped in a dish towel in the back seat of his car, I stood in the kitchen for a long time thinking about what comes next — not just for him, but for everything Bernice put into those hands. The cornbread was the lesson, but the cast iron is the inheritance, and the dish I think of first when I think of what that skillet was truly made for is this one: country fried chicken, the way my mother made it, the way I make it, the way I hope CJ will make it someday in Huntsville when someone he loves needs something real. You season the pan. You heat it right. You don’t rush it. The chicken does the rest.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

3 lbs bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces (thighs, drumsticks, breasts)
2 cups buttermilk
1 teaspoon hot sauce
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for seasoning
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Vegetable oil or lard, for frying (about 1 inch deep in skillet)

Instructions

Soak the chicken. In a large bowl, whisk together buttermilk and hot sauce. Add chicken pieces, turn to coat, cover, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour or overnight. The longer it soaks, the more tender the result.
Mix the dredge. In a shallow dish, whisk together flour, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, cayenne, salt, and black pepper until evenly combined.
Heat the skillet. Pour oil into a well-seasoned cast iron skillet to a depth of about 1 inch. Heat over medium-high until the oil reaches 350°F. A drop of water should sizzle immediately on contact — do not skip this step.
Dredge the chicken. Remove chicken from buttermilk, letting excess drip off. Press each piece firmly into the flour mixture, coating all sides thoroughly. Shake off excess and set on a rack.
Fry in batches. Working in batches to avoid crowding, carefully lower chicken pieces into the hot oil skin-side down. Fry for 12–15 minutes per side, adjusting heat to maintain 325°F–350°F, until deep golden brown and the internal temperature reads 165°F.
Drain and rest. Transfer fried chicken to a wire rack set over a baking sheet. Season immediately with a pinch of salt. Rest for 5 minutes before serving — this keeps the crust from steaming itself soft.

Nutrition (per serving)

Country Fried Chicken — The Cast Iron That Bernice Blessed