By The community center summer lunch program ended this week. Last day was Thursday. Eighty-one kids showed up — the most we've had all summer. I made fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and cornbread, because if I'm going to send these children into the last weeks of summer, they're going out on the best meal I can give them.
The little quiet girl — I've been telling you about her all summer — she came through the line and she did something she has never done before. She spoke. She said, "Thank you, Miss Dot." Just that. Three words. And her voice was small and soft and it cracked a little, and I had to turn away to the stove because I was about to lose it right there in front of eighty-one children and Doreen and the volunteer who doesn't know how to work the dishwasher.
I put an extra drumstick on her tray. I put two rolls. I put a napkin full of cookies I'd baked that morning. And I said, "Baby, you come find me at Hodge when school starts. You know where my kitchen is." She nodded. She took her tray. She sat in her corner. And she ate like she always does — every bite, clean tray, napkin folded. But this time she was smiling. It was small. But it was there.
This is why I do this. Not for the paycheck — Lord knows the paycheck from a school kitchen is nothing to write home about. Not for the recognition — nobody throws parades for lunch ladies. I do this because a child said "thank you" and it meant "you saved me a little bit this summer," and that is more valuable than anything I will ever own.
Saturday I made peach preserves. The peaches this year are spectacular — freestone peaches from a farm in Byron, Georgia, that a man sells out of his truck at the farmers market. I bought a bushel. I peeled them standing at the sink while Earl watched baseball and Kayla studied at the table, and the kitchen smelled like summer and sugar and I was so happy I could have cried. You cook the peaches down with sugar and a little lemon juice and a scrape of vanilla bean — that's my addition, not Hattie Pearl's, and I hope she doesn't haunt me for it — and you ladle them into jars, hot, and seal them, and you have sunshine in glass for the cold months.
Twelve jars. I'll give six away and keep six. That's the ratio. Half for you, half for others. That's been my ratio for everything my whole life, though if I'm honest, it's usually more like a quarter for me and three-quarters for everyone else. Denise says I'm too generous. I say there's no such thing.
Now go on and feed somebody.
Standing there at the sink with peach juice running down my arms and Earl hollering at the television and Kayla scratching away at her homework, I felt that particular kind of full that has nothing to do with food — and everything about it made me want to cook a real supper, something that crackled and smelled like home. Oven fried chicken is what I reach for when my heart is already halfway to grateful. Hattie Pearl made it on Sundays; I make it on the days I need to remember why I love this life. Here’s how I do it.
Oven Fried Rosemary Chicken
Prep Time: 20 minutes (plus 1 hour brine) | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes (plus brining) | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 3 to 3 1/2 lbs bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces (drumsticks and thighs work beautifully)
- 1 cup buttermilk
- 1 teaspoon hot sauce
- 1 1/2 cups panko breadcrumbs
- 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
- 2 tablespoons fresh rosemary, finely chopped (or 2 teaspoons dried)
- 1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder
- 1 1/2 teaspoons onion powder
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
- 3 tablespoons olive oil or melted butter, for drizzling
Instructions
- Brine the chicken. Whisk together the buttermilk and hot sauce in a large bowl. Add the chicken pieces, turn to coat, cover, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour or up to overnight. The longer it sits, the more tender the meat will be.
- Preheat and prepare the pan. When you’re ready to cook, 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 nonstick cooking spray.
- Make the coating. In a shallow dish or wide bowl, combine the panko, flour, rosemary, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, salt, black pepper, and cayenne. Stir until everything is evenly mixed.
- Dredge the chicken. Lift each piece of chicken from the buttermilk, letting the excess drip off, then press it firmly into the breadcrumb mixture on all sides. You want a good, thick coat. Set each dredged piece on the prepared rack.
- Add the fat. Drizzle the olive oil or melted butter evenly over all the coated chicken. This is what gives you that golden, fried-tasting crust without the deep fryer.
- Bake until crispy and cooked through. Bake at 425°F for 40 to 45 minutes, until the coating is deep golden brown and the internal temperature of the thickest piece reads 165°F. Do not flip the chicken—leaving it undisturbed lets the bottom crust set properly on the rack.
- Rest before serving. Let the chicken rest on the rack for 5 minutes before serving. This keeps the juices in and the crust crisp. Serve hot, with an extra drumstick for anyone who looks like they need it.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 520mg