Justin's Fried Chicken
The personal gold standard.
The ingredients
4 c. vegetable oil
4-5 large chicken thighs (can be breasts)
1 c. buttermilk
4 tbsp. pickle juice
4 tbsp. hot sauce of choice
1 c. flour of choice
1/2 c. corn meal
4 tbsp. potato starch
3 tbsp. garlic salt
2 tbsp. cayenne
2 tbsp. cajun seasoning of choice
1 tbsp. black pepper
The process
Marinate chicken in buttermilk, pickle juice, and hot sauce mixture for at least four hours. Do not marinate overnight or your chicken will be mush. When ready to cook, heat oil in deep saucepan or pot until it reaches between 300 and 350 degrees. Mix together all dry ingredients until well combined and place in a plastic bag. Take chicken directly from buttermilk mixture and put directly into the dry mixture. Shake the bag until chicken is completely covered, one piece at a time. Place chicken in oil for about 7 minutes, or until the interior temperature reaches 165 degrees. Garnish with a little bit of honey and diced chives, if you’re into that kind of thing.
I also serve with homemade hot sauce and my special blue cheese recipe, but I won’t be sharing that because you have to moderate yourself, you know?
The story
Do I think French Onion chicken is nice? Sure. Love to feel fancy and European.
But if I’m being honest, my fried chicken is one of my greatest accomplishments in this world. It’s my go-to when I’m missing home, and honestly it’s just nice to be able to fix something that’s both so personal and also so delicious. Over the years, it’s gotten tweaked a little bit by the influence chefs who’ve worked at Michelin-starred restaurants (potato starch will keep your chicken crispy from now until eternity) and gluten-free weirdos (my finacé) and home cooks who have been making the dish much longer than me (Theresa’s hot chicken recipe is still killer). But nothing will ever top my mom’s original recipe, and at the risk of sounding very earnest, I think it’s because she’s the one behind the skillet.
Mom always worked at least one job growing up, and somehow, she always found positions that allowed her to take us to school and to pick us up. We never took the bus and she always packed our lunches and—I guess I just never realized how fortunate I was to have a mom who bent over backward, so consistently, to make sure our world was uninterrupted and stable and consistent. I think it’s because she made it look easy, which is a blessing and a curse isn’t it? When you’re so capable, no one thinks to ask if you need a hand.
I’ll always be grateful for fried chicken, no matter which direction the recipe takes because every time someone tries my recipe, I know the base is the one my mom passed on to me.