Crunchy Sweet and Salty Chicken

Homecoming Sunday. Let me tell you about homecoming Sunday at New Hope AME Church, because if you have never experienced a Black church homecoming, you have missed one of the great communal events in American life, and I say that with the full authority of a woman who has cooked for twenty-two of them.

I was in the kitchen by four in the morning. Four. The Lord was not up yet. The birds were not up yet. But Loretta Simms was up, because two hundred people were going to eat at noon and that food was not going to cook itself. I had the hams in the oven by four-thirty — two of them, fifteen pounds each, honey-glazed with pineapple and cloves the way Mama did it for homecoming in Bessemer. The fried chicken started at six. I fried in batches, forty pieces at a time, the oil at exactly 350 degrees because temperature matters, baby. Temperature is the difference between fried chicken and a disappointment.

The service was magnificent. People came from everywhere — former members who had moved to Atlanta, to Dallas, to Chicago, coming home for one Sunday to sit in the pews where they were baptized and hear the choir sing the songs their mothers sang. Calvin preached for forty-five minutes, which is short for homecoming, and the Spirit moved through that sanctuary like weather, like something you could feel on your skin. I sat in the front pew with tears I did not bother wiping because homecoming tears are holy tears and they dry on their own time.

Two hundred and twelve people ate in the fellowship hall. I counted. I always count, because the count is the proof — proof that the food was enough, that the kitchen held, that Loretta Simms did not run out. We did not run out. We had fried chicken and ham and collard greens and mac and cheese and candied yams and cornbread and potato salad and pound cake and sweet potato pie and peach cobbler and banana pudding and three kinds of Jell-O salad that nobody asked for but everybody ate. The table was groaning. The fellowship hall was loud with laughter and catching up and the sound of people who love each other eating food made by a woman who loves them all.

I got home at five o'clock. I sat down in the kitchen chair. I took off my shoes. My feet were swollen. My knees were screaming. My hands smelled like chicken grease and glory. Calvin brought me sweet tea without being asked. I said Calvin, I just fed two hundred and twelve people. He said I know. I said I am going to sit here until I can feel my legs again. He said take your time. I took my time. The kitchen was quiet. The house smelled like everything good. Homecoming is done. Amen.

Sitting in that kitchen chair with my shoes off and my feet swollen and my hands smelling like chicken grease and glory, the only thing I could think was: I want to make fried chicken again, but just for us, just for Calvin and me, something a little sweet and a little salty and nobody waiting on seconds. This recipe is my homecoming-after-homecoming chicken—smaller batch, same love, with a honey brine that gives you that crunch people kept reaching for at the fellowship hall. Here’s how I make it when I’m feeding two instead of two hundred.

Prep Time: 20 minutes + 1 hour brine | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 55 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

4 lbs bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces (drumsticks and thighs)
2 cups buttermilk
2 tablespoons hot sauce
2 tablespoons honey, divided
2 teaspoons kosher salt, divided
2 cups Grape-Nuts cereal
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted
2 tablespoons pure maple syrup
1 teaspoon flaky sea salt, for finishing
Neutral oil or cooking spray, for the pan

Instructions

Brine the chicken. In a large bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, hot sauce, 1 tablespoon honey, and 1 teaspoon kosher salt. Add the chicken pieces, turning to coat. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or overnight. The buttermilk tenderizes the meat and helps the coating grip.
Heat the oven. Preheat your oven to 425°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with foil and set a wire rack on top. Spray the rack generously with cooking spray. The rack is what keeps the underside from going soggy — do not skip it.
Build the coating. Pulse the Grape-Nuts in a food processor four or five times until broken into coarse crumbs — you want texture, not dust. In a shallow dish, combine the Grape-Nuts crumbs, flour, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, cayenne, black pepper, and the remaining 1 teaspoon kosher salt. Mix well.
Make the sweet butter glaze. In a small bowl, stir together the melted butter, maple syrup, and remaining 1 tablespoon honey. This glaze is what makes the coating caramelize and turn deep golden — it is the secret the deacons could not place.
Coat the chicken. Remove the chicken from the buttermilk, letting the excess drip off but not shaking it dry. Dredge each piece in the Grape-Nuts mixture, pressing firmly on all sides so the coating adheres. Arrange on the prepared wire rack in a single layer without crowding.
Apply the glaze and bake. Brush the coated chicken generously with the sweet butter glaze. Bake at 425°F for 30 to 35 minutes, until the coating is deep amber and crackling and the internal temperature reads 165°F at the thickest part. Do not flip. Do not open the oven more than once. Let the heat do its work.
Finish and rest. Remove from the oven. Brush any remaining glaze over the top of each piece immediately. Sprinkle with flaky sea salt. Let the chicken rest on the rack for 5 minutes before plating. Resting keeps the juices inside where they belong.
Serve. Arrange on a platter and set it on the table. Stand back. Watch the deacon board stop mid-conversation. You have done your job.

Nutrition (per serving)

Crunchy Sweet and Salty Chicken — The Grape-Nuts Coating That Made the Whole Deacon Board Stop Mid-Plate and Ask Loretta What She Had Done