The first time I tried a Chick-fil-A sandwich, I was dazzled. So simple, but so good. Nothing mysterious about it. I was much younger then, and while no less passionate about social justice and politics, I was not nearly as connected to others, nor informed about issues as I am now. As a teen, I would glibly toss around derisive comments about all things gay, and I'm sure I was hurtful somewhere along the way. Then, a funny thing happened. I realized that a whole lot of my friends, people I cared about deeply, were gay. And over the years, I noticed that I cared less and less about their sexuality, and a whole lot more about how others treated them. I had similarly enlightening and evolutionary experiences over the years, having heard my fair share of closed-minded rants about "otherness" throughout my youth; I like to believe that I've managed to outgrow the vast majority of my misperceptions.
When it became clear to me over the past year or so that Dan Cathy, president of Chick-fil-A, supported a number of (at best) distasteful causes, I joined many of my friends in swearing off the food. Yes, I know that the local franchisees are not the same thing as the overarching corporation, but when a businessperson chooses to open a franchise restaurant, they do tend to have some options. They could opt to start up a restaurant in partnership with a corporation that is supportive of positive causes, and not mired in, frankly, hate. In short, I just don't have a problem with opting not to buy food from a company that will, in turn, use some of my money to support causes that squarely target some of my dearest friends simply because of who they are, and who they love.
This doesn't help me with a fundamental problem - I love the taste of that chicken.
So, last night, I took my shot at making a good substitute for our family to enjoy. I did some digging around online to find what others had attempted, and settled on my own pathway. I knew I was looking at a simple egg/flour coating, but it seems that folks tend to add some kind of sugar in this recreation. I did add some powdered sugar to the flour, salt, and pepper, and also added a small dash of Old Bay seasoning. To the eggs (2), I added an equal part of milk. That's it. For those who like measurements, I can only offer you guesstimates. I had 5 chicken breasts, which I halved in thickness. I wanted to insure the chicken didn't overwhelm the bun, and these were some large breasts. I used about a cup and half of flour, probably 3-4 tablespoons of powdered sugar, 4 teaspoons of salt, 2 of pepper, and a scant 1 of the Old Bay. If used excessively, Old Bay can overpower, so I wanted to keep it modest, but still add a little something to the mixture.
I cooked my chicken in a 50/50 blend of canola and peanut oils, largely because I was almost out of peanut oil. I will make darn sure I have more peanut oil next time, but this worked just fine. If I were cooking this many breasts again in the future, I would break out the deep fryer to save time. I do try to get food on the table in 30-40 minutes most nights, but in choosing to use the pan, it took much longer. To save time, I did most of my chicken prep while my fries were cooking. Sadly, I don't have a waffle cutter on hand, but my mandoline made quick work of the potatoes, and I had some great cuts in a hurry. As with all frying, the goal is golden brown and delicious (thank you, Alton Brown, for having your voice attached to that phrase for the rest of my life). I love Claussen pickles, and pretty much always have a large jar of them on hand (one of those great Costco perks). I had only spears on hand, so I cut them into 1 cm slices, and put 4 on each sandwich, which was spot on for proportions. I served up some green beans, having forgotten to pick up cole slaw (my preferred side dish when I used to patronize the chain) in my last shop.
The verdict
I think my wife and I agreed: this was every bit as good as what we used to get. I need to find a waffle cutter if I want the whole experience, but I can say with absolute certainty that I can now have my "Chick-fil-A" at home without the guilt. No compromise on taste at all, and well-worth the effort. In fact, it was good enough for our 4-year-old to declare it "delicious," and eat a whole piece of chicken herself!
I know some of my friends have different takes on the issue of gay rights, and I understand why they feel the way they do. But I firmly disagree with them, and feel it is vitally important to take small stands on my own beliefs. I can't knowingly spend money knowing that some of it is going to causes that are completely at odds with what I feel is good and decent. My daughters live across the entryway to our building from a lesbian couple with a son between them in age. They see a loving family, just like ours, nearly everyday, and I'm glad that my 2 girls are not going to hear from us the kind of bitter, hateful attitudes I heard about same-sex couples when I was growing up. Sure, they'll hear it and see it in life, but it is my sincere hope that they will be voices of reason and care when they do. I officiated a wedding ceremony for 2 other friends, both women, a few years ago, and I look forward to doing it again when I can sign their marriage certificate that grants them the same legal rights my wife and I enjoy.
In love, in life -- and in chicken -- there should be no guilt!
Showing posts with label french fries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label french fries. Show all posts
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Fish and Chips... and neighbors
We are really lucky people. We get to share meals from time to time with some of our fabulous neighbors, and tonight was one of those nights. I couldn't resist picking up some Atlantic cod this weekend when shopping, and knew exactly who I wanted to share it with; our neighbors Ami and Craig (and their 2 sons). I felt a little guilty popping it in the freezer on Saturday, but we knew we wouldn't be able to get it cooked before tonight, so that eased some of my guilt. And since I knew it was going to become part of a fish and chips dinner, well, that pushed all my guilt aside. Some careful defrosting can actually help keep the fish moist when it gets cooked in such high heat, I find.
I found myself on the hot seat tonight, because one of our neighbors has strong roots in the Boston area, a real New England-er who loves quality seafood, and is not afraid to wax passionately about the dearth of good seafood out here in the Midwest. As an east coast guy, I can relate. I'm not a huge seafood fan, but when I do indulge, I'm pretty particular myself. And fish and chips is pretty often poorly done, quite frankly. As finicky as I can be about the quality of the fish, I am even more of a snob about a good batter. I pride myself on having learned some great secrets from a host of great chefs/cooks over the years, and think I do a better than average job batter-dipping a good dinner.
I had a bit of a scare early on in the cooking tonight. I try to keep folks out of the kitchen as much as possible when I deep fry, even more so now that we have a young daughter in the house (and the next one coming soon...). Unfortunately, I was less prudent with my pug, and as I did the first fry on the first batch of fries, there was a bit of a spatter that bubbled up just as he was passing under foot. I was able to get him scooped up, rinsed off, and noted no harm, although I think he thought I was a bit nuts for my dramatic reaction. After a good long "oh-my-G-d-I'm-glad-you're-OK" hug, I got back to work. Knowing that I'd be holding the fries in the oven for a few minutes while I cooked the fish, I wanted to be sure they would be as crispy as possible, so I did the twice-fried method, partially cooking them the first time at a lower temperature, draining them, cooling them, and setting them aside to finish them up later.
After the second trip to the fryer, the potatoes were seasoned and kept warm, and I turned my attention to the main attraction. I like to keep things on the simple side with my batter, and for fish and chips, I'm a big fan of using beer. In general, carbonated liquid is my rule of thumb, as I find the batter that results is substantially lighter and "puffier" than with a non-carbonated liquid. And since the beer packs a whole lot of flavor-punch on its own, I tend not to add much more to the mix. For my flour dredge, I did add a bit of a slightly-sharp Hungarian paprika, something with the slightest bit of zip right up next to the fish itself. The batter was simply flour, salt, pepper, and a nice wheat ale that had a slightly sweet flavor. Sadly, I can't seem to recall what I used, and the bottle is down in the recycle bin now. No matter; just as long as you cook with something you'd actually drink, it works out just fine. It's mostly important to avoid overpowering the food with something too strong; Guinness would be a deal-breaker on this one, for sure.
I asked that the neighbors bring some malt vinegar (something I was surprised to discover was absent from our collection of vinegars) and some cole slaw (I just love a nice cole slaw with fried fish), and they obliged my request, rounding out the meal.
The verdict
I've been thinking a lot lately about how disconnected folks often are from their neighbors, from their extended families, and sometimes even from immediate family. As a nation, we have spread out, and more than ever, I think, we could do with a good dose of re-connection, finding points of commonality with those who are around us and building on them to strengthen our roots where we live in the face of such distances. Sure, we get to connect up in virtual spaces easily, and we do build and strengthen relationships in them, but there is something special about the day-in, day-out bond shared with the people who live in the neighborhood. I suppose I've ranted about this before, but it bears repeating.
So for those of you who live far from family and haven't connected up with someone in the neighborhood, I urge you to reach out and share a meal together. Share your stories, find the things that you have in common, and build some kind of relationship with them. Food is a great way to start a rich dialog about your pasts, your upbringing, your families, and the things you value and cherish. We shared some great stories tonight about "house rules" for mealtimes growing up, and that led to some great laughs, sure, but more importantly it let us know a little more about what shaped us into who we are now. As much as I like to preach about having family mealtime, it is also important to open that up once in a while and invite in the people you like. For us, living in a city, that means people we share the sidewalk with, gripe about parking and transit with, and in our case, share a deck space with, back doors just inches apart. Having had the great fortune of getting to know them over the past few years, I knew they would appreciate my effort at good seafood, and they did.
The verdict is simple; the fish was moist and tasty, and the beer added just enough flavor to make things interesting. I don't think the neighbors were at all disappointed. The fries held up great, and I managed to avoid over-salting them for a change (I've had some heavy-handed moments on that front recently). The slaw was a nice, cool, crispy addition, and the malt vinegar was spot-on. I would love to have a kitchen where deep frying was a simpler option. Deep frying gets a bad rap; it can be done sensibly, and if you do it right, you shouldn't be eating a ton of the oil anyway. But since it is an ordeal to set up the fryer, and even bigger ordeal to tear it down, clean it up, and contend with the oil, I'll probably keep it in the "sometimes food" category for now (it certainly isn't a half-hour-to-the-table meal making fish and chips). Well, at least as long as we live here, with our reasonable but modest-sized kitchen, alongside some of the best neighbors we could ever want, I'll keep it that way.
I found myself on the hot seat tonight, because one of our neighbors has strong roots in the Boston area, a real New England-er who loves quality seafood, and is not afraid to wax passionately about the dearth of good seafood out here in the Midwest. As an east coast guy, I can relate. I'm not a huge seafood fan, but when I do indulge, I'm pretty particular myself. And fish and chips is pretty often poorly done, quite frankly. As finicky as I can be about the quality of the fish, I am even more of a snob about a good batter. I pride myself on having learned some great secrets from a host of great chefs/cooks over the years, and think I do a better than average job batter-dipping a good dinner.
I had a bit of a scare early on in the cooking tonight. I try to keep folks out of the kitchen as much as possible when I deep fry, even more so now that we have a young daughter in the house (and the next one coming soon...). Unfortunately, I was less prudent with my pug, and as I did the first fry on the first batch of fries, there was a bit of a spatter that bubbled up just as he was passing under foot. I was able to get him scooped up, rinsed off, and noted no harm, although I think he thought I was a bit nuts for my dramatic reaction. After a good long "oh-my-G-d-I'm-glad-you're-OK" hug, I got back to work. Knowing that I'd be holding the fries in the oven for a few minutes while I cooked the fish, I wanted to be sure they would be as crispy as possible, so I did the twice-fried method, partially cooking them the first time at a lower temperature, draining them, cooling them, and setting them aside to finish them up later.
After the second trip to the fryer, the potatoes were seasoned and kept warm, and I turned my attention to the main attraction. I like to keep things on the simple side with my batter, and for fish and chips, I'm a big fan of using beer. In general, carbonated liquid is my rule of thumb, as I find the batter that results is substantially lighter and "puffier" than with a non-carbonated liquid. And since the beer packs a whole lot of flavor-punch on its own, I tend not to add much more to the mix. For my flour dredge, I did add a bit of a slightly-sharp Hungarian paprika, something with the slightest bit of zip right up next to the fish itself. The batter was simply flour, salt, pepper, and a nice wheat ale that had a slightly sweet flavor. Sadly, I can't seem to recall what I used, and the bottle is down in the recycle bin now. No matter; just as long as you cook with something you'd actually drink, it works out just fine. It's mostly important to avoid overpowering the food with something too strong; Guinness would be a deal-breaker on this one, for sure.
I asked that the neighbors bring some malt vinegar (something I was surprised to discover was absent from our collection of vinegars) and some cole slaw (I just love a nice cole slaw with fried fish), and they obliged my request, rounding out the meal.
The verdict
 |
| I got a pic before my wife could dig in ... Wish the fish was in the foreground. Oh well. |
So for those of you who live far from family and haven't connected up with someone in the neighborhood, I urge you to reach out and share a meal together. Share your stories, find the things that you have in common, and build some kind of relationship with them. Food is a great way to start a rich dialog about your pasts, your upbringing, your families, and the things you value and cherish. We shared some great stories tonight about "house rules" for mealtimes growing up, and that led to some great laughs, sure, but more importantly it let us know a little more about what shaped us into who we are now. As much as I like to preach about having family mealtime, it is also important to open that up once in a while and invite in the people you like. For us, living in a city, that means people we share the sidewalk with, gripe about parking and transit with, and in our case, share a deck space with, back doors just inches apart. Having had the great fortune of getting to know them over the past few years, I knew they would appreciate my effort at good seafood, and they did.
The verdict is simple; the fish was moist and tasty, and the beer added just enough flavor to make things interesting. I don't think the neighbors were at all disappointed. The fries held up great, and I managed to avoid over-salting them for a change (I've had some heavy-handed moments on that front recently). The slaw was a nice, cool, crispy addition, and the malt vinegar was spot-on. I would love to have a kitchen where deep frying was a simpler option. Deep frying gets a bad rap; it can be done sensibly, and if you do it right, you shouldn't be eating a ton of the oil anyway. But since it is an ordeal to set up the fryer, and even bigger ordeal to tear it down, clean it up, and contend with the oil, I'll probably keep it in the "sometimes food" category for now (it certainly isn't a half-hour-to-the-table meal making fish and chips). Well, at least as long as we live here, with our reasonable but modest-sized kitchen, alongside some of the best neighbors we could ever want, I'll keep it that way.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)