Pretty dang good for a Yankee: GF fried chicken

Admit it - you crave KFC sometimes too!

I have to admit: I really, really miss KFC sometimes.

I don’t pretend to think that KFC is actually *good* fried chicken, but it’s hot and greasy and delicious and comforting – it takes me back to a very specific part of my 20s during which KFC potatoes and gravy and a box of extra crispy meant that everything was right in my world, despite all appearances to the contrary (thanks, Cathy, for “good food attractively served”!)

So this gluten-free thing has made me sad – it’s hard to find any restaurant that we can eat at, and there’s pretty much no chance of ever finding fried chicken that's not going to incapacitate us for a solid month. Last fall I finally got around to trying out a gluten-free version of the Lee Brothers’ Tuesday Fried Chicken when my brother came to dinner; I’m pleased to say that it was a resounding success (i.e, no leftovers, and all of us too full for (much) dessert). Now that I've made it a few times, it doesn't feel that like that big of a deal.

Southern food has been on my brain lately - I read "To Kill a Mockingbird" over the holiday break and just finished "The Spymistress," an account of a Richmond woman who was a Union spy during the Civil War, so Anna's suggestion that I make fried chicken tonight was perfectly timed. I've been a huge fan of the Lee Brothers ever since a waiter at Zingerman's Roadhouse hooked me up with a personalized-and-signed copy of their first book. Some of the recipes feel a little complicated but every single one has absolutely been worth the bother. Most of the epic dinner I cooked for the church service auction last November came from this cookbook, and they've gone a long way toward shaking my impression that everything Southern was deep-fried and included lard, mayonnaise, and/or Jello. 

GF Version of the Lee Brothers’ Tuesday Fried Chicken

For the fry dredge:

½ cup all-purpose baking blend (I used whatever mix I have on hand: the one that's been turned into waffles lately seems to work just fine)

3 tablespoons fine- or medium-grind cornmeal

2 teaspoons salt

1 ½ teaspoons ground pepper

For the chicken:

2-3 lbs. chicken drumsticks (or a mix of drumsticks and thighs)

3 cups peanut or canola oil

Equipment needed:

12-inch straight-sided frying pan with a lid (often sold under the name “chicken fryer," mysteriously enough)

Long-handled tongs

A kitchen timer

A thermometer (preferably a candy thermometer)

A certain sense of fearlessness

Preheat the oven to 250.

In the pan, heat the oil to 325-350. Use the candy thermometer to gauge this; you really can’t eyeball it, although I’ve noticed the oil makes a very specific popping sound as it get close. You'll recognize it the second time around and stop using the thermometer. 

While the oil is heating, dredge the chicken in the flour mixture and shake off the excess.

When the oil reaches temperature, add 4-6 pieces of chicken to the pan using the long-handled tongs. Set the timer for 6 minutes, put the lid on the pan, and adjust the heat as needed to keep the oil in the right temperature range (I adjust it to just over medium and it holds the temperature perfectly). DO NOT OVERCROWD THE PAN. The chicken will look a little lonely in there but it’s okay, you don’t want to crowd the pan, since that brings the temperature down and makes the chicken greasy. (Eeewww.)

When the timer goes off, remove the lid, turn the chicken, and replace the lid. Set the timer for 6 minutes.

(I say this as if it’s the easiest thing in the world, but the first time I made this it was a little bit scary. I have a pretty spectacular history of grease burns and the pressure cooker scares the s*#t out of me. Hence the recommendation for long-handled tongs. It’s much less scary the second time, although I don’t recommend that you open that beer until you’re done frying. It’s helpful to have somewhere heatproof to set the pan lid – turn on the vent fan – I promise your house will not smell like a diner.)

When that timer goes off, turn the chicken, replace the lid and cook for 3 minutes. Turn the chicken a final time, cook for a final 3 minutes, and put the pieces on a paper towel-lined plate in the oven.

Does this seem like a lot of bother? Only the first time. It gives you plenty of time to pay attention to other things – like side dishes – and since you’re making it in batches and holding it in the oven anyway, you don’t have to feel pressured to stand over the pan the entire time  (you can walk into the living room and write a blog post, for instance). Continue until all the chicken is fried. A batch of fry dredge will cover a good 3 pounds of chicken, and you can scale it up as needed. When you’re done and the oil has cooled, strain it into a jar and you can re-use it a time or two.

After the first time, this will go really quickly. Have I said that enough times to convince you? And it's definitely less hassle than trying to find a place to serve gluten-free fried chicken.