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Fried Chicken Quotes

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Fried Chicken Quotes

“Well, speaking of supper, let's get it underway," she proposed. "Is there any meat in the house?" "There's plenty of chickens in the chicken house out back," Sam responded. "I'll get Aaron to help me, and we'll kill a couple of roosters." "Oh, my!" exclaimed Margaret. "Well, that will be fresh chicken, for sure!”

“King's Hot Chicken Shack didn't exactly scream "romantic," not that I was looking for that. Clearly Daniel wasn't. The shack conveyed something entirely different, with its HOT! HOT! HOT! neon sign and posters of cartoony squawking chickens taped to the window. Nearly all of the items offered on the menu were similar to other hot chicken places I loved, like Prince's and Hattie B's, and most were foods you picked up with your hands, a second clue that Daniel was definitely not inclined to romantic thoughts. Hot chicken nuggets, tenders, wings, quarters, and halves. Waffle fries. Curly fries. Buttered corn on the cob. All of it sounded delicious... and very platonic. Like Flora's coffee shop, this place had an extensive menu, plus way too many heat levels for the average fried chicken consumer: plain, mild, medium, hot, hot, X hot, XX hot, XXX hot, and the ultimate heat: "hot like motherclucking hell!”

“Good fried chicken was remarkably hard to come by in New York, but this---tender, with just enough crust-only bits protruding, skin peeling easily away from the meat---this was good. The fries were thin and still hot, some with crunch, some with bite, lightly sprinkled with the salt blend they'd always used. The biscuits were fresh and flaky, and the salad's iceberg lettuce was dressed in Mimi's trademark sweet oil dressing---a closely guarded (but really very simple, and once very common) recipe.”

“Parmesan cheese?" Miller said. "We're not cooking Italian food." I rolled my eyes. "Yes, keep grating it, and when you're done, whisk it into those eggs. Now you know the secret ingredient of our fried chicken." Once the dredging pans were ready, I showed the young cooks through the four steps. They watched me closely. Ben, sweet baby--- bless him--- wrote everything down. The first step was to dry the chicken pieces with a paper towel, so they were tacky but not wet. This would enable the seasoning to stick to them. The secret here was not to salt too far in advance, because although salt helped enhance flavor, it also dried out meat. The second step was to dredge it in the flour mixed with cayenne pepper. After you shook off the excess flour, you put it into the mixture of eggs and grated Parmesan cheese. Finally, you dunked it into a second flour mixture that contained enough freshly ground black pepper to turn the mixture gray. This chicken was, as the kids say, fire, meaning it was so good. Its heat was balanced with the Parmesan cheese.”

“The 19th-century Americana and DIY energy that became associated with Brooklyn dining were arguably transplanted from Portland. At Le Pigeon, one of the defining restaurants of mid-aughts Portland, bucking tradition remains pleasingly de rigeuer and unapologetically deranged. Lobster-stuffed fried chicken, a recent dish that could have merely been a dare, instead crams the luxury of lobster bisque inside of a fried hunk of chicken breast, the richness cut just enough by bright spring peas and slaw. The logic of the lobster fried chicken is a dogged quest to overload all pleasure centers in the weirdest possible way. Eating it makes you want to die, but happily.”

“I went outside into the alley behind the restaurant next to a dumpster and ate the rest of the chicken myself. It was damn good. It was perfectly fried and moist. You could taste the gentle hints of thyme and cayenne pepper I had used in the buttermilk last night to brine it. It was perfectly seasoned and crunched with every bite. The collards that she totally ignored were tender and rich with vinegar and bacon.”

“It starts with chicken thigh meat cut into big, thick chunks. They're then set to marinate for the morning in a Nikumi- Original Marinade featuring soy sauce and cayenne pepper. "Breading done." "Thanks!" "Man, the smell of this chicken deep-frying is so good, it's making me hungry!" "Is it done yet? I wanna eat!" After the chicken breast has been fried not once but twice... ... it, along with lettuce leaves and other leafy herbs... ... is all wrapped up in our special, freshly cooked wrap! Some of our "Secret Chili Sauce" (which has a dash of Thai Nam Pla in it for flavor)... ... and a sprinkling of fresh cracked black pepper top it all off!”

“When it came to the frying of chicken, they took pity on the captors and incorporated the seasonings and spices of Africa- garlic, melegueta pepper, cloves, black peppercorns, cardamom, nutmeg, turmeric and even curry powder. They forgave them their cruelty and presented them with what can only be described as a gift born in sorrow. Food has the ability to move people in this manner. It can inspire bravery. These kitchen slaves could have been beaten for this insolence, or perhaps even killed for such an act, but they served their fried fowl anyway. Not surprisingly, their captors were entranced by it. Soon southern fried chicken became a delicacy enjoyed by both cultures- it was the one point where both captors and captive found pleasure, although the Africans were only allowed to fry the discarded wings of the bird for their own meals. Despite the continued injustice, it was an inspired and blessed act of subversion. Although born in slavery, this dish has not only brought together an entire region of people, it has transformed them. It is, as the Americans say, "democratic," and is now enjoyed by people of all walks of life and all parts of the country.”

“Afterward, Marvina and I fried the chicken, and, I tell you, all hell broke loose when Kerresha tasted the meat. "Oh my God! Holy Jesus and Guadalupe Mary!" Before Marvina could ask her to stop using the Lord's name in vain, Kerresha leaned back in her chair and feigned a heart attack. "Oh my God! Mmm, mmm mmmmm! Where? What kind of voodoo did you put in this chicken?" "Ain't no voodoo here in this house," Marvina bucked. "Yes! There is!" Kerresha licked her fingers. "I promise you. On God." She put a hand on her heart. "This chicken just took me back to the spiritual power of the ancestors." Marvina was so flattered she couldn't be mad. We both looked at each other and laughed, because, truth be told, this was exactly the reaction people gave the first time they tasted Momma's seasoning on expertly fried chicken. "Y'all." Kerresha raised both hands in the air like she was getting happy in a holiness church. "Is it the grease? The seasoning? Chickens raised by unicorns?" "It's the seasoning," my sister and I said simultaneously. Kerresha swallowed another bite. "Whatever y'all put in that seasoning is a miracle. A double miracle, since it also has the power to make y'all finally both agree on something.”

“She leaned over the basket again, taking in the mouthwatering aromas wafting out of it. "Fried chicken? Oh, I'm thinking buttermilk fried chicken?" Dylan was once again amused. "How do you do that?" "I like food." "You don't say." "And I love Southern fried chicken." She tried to open the basket, and he tapped her hand jokingly. "Sit," he said. And she did, crossing her legs and plopping down on the blanket. Opening the basket and playing waiter, Dylan began removing flatware and plates and red-checkered napkins, and then wrapped food. "For lunch today in Chez Orchard de Pomme, we have some lovely cheese, made from the milk of my buddy Mike's goat Shelia." He removed the plastic wrap, which covered a small log of fresh white cheese on a small plate, and handed it to her. Grace put her nose to the cheese. It was heavenly. "Oh, Shelia is my new best friend." "It's good stuff. And we have some fresh chili corn bread. The corn, I think, is from Peter Lindsey's new crop, just cut out from the maze, which is right down this hill." He motioned with his head toward the field, and then he handed her a big loaf of the fresh corn bread wrapped loosely in wax paper. "It's still warm!" Delighted, she held it to her cheek. Then he pulled out a large oval Tupperware container. "And, yes, we have Dolly's buttermilk fried chicken." Grace peeled open the top and smelled. "Fabulous." "It is!" He also pulled out a mason jar of sourwood honey, a sack of pecans, and a couple of very cold bottles of a local mountain-brewed beer.”

“This wrap! It's made of rice! Now I get it... it's a variation on a Bánh Xèo!" BÁNH XÈO Literally meaning "Sizzling Cake," it is a Vietnamese rice-flour pancake. The batter is made from rice flour, water, coconut milk and other ingredients and is then spread thinly and fried like a crepe. Once cooked, ingredients like pork, shrimp, and bean sprouts are folded inside. I see the concept behind this dish now! It's mixing piping-hot rice with juicy fried chicken! Fried chicken and rice have always been a golden combination. Here they've recreated that in a form that's easy to eat on the go and just as delicious. And they even managed to do it in an innovative and eye-catching way!”

“Ain’ no Black people need no therapists, ’cause we don’ be havin’ those mental issues. OCD, ADD, PTSD, and all those other acronyms they be comin’ up with every day. I’m tellin’ you, the only acronyms Black folk need help with is the NYPD, FBI, CIA, KKK, and KFC, ’cause I know they be puttin’ shit in those twelve-piece bucket meals to make us addicted to them. All that saturated fat, sodium.”

“How do you get the chicken this crispy?" I asked. The meal was a mixture of the saltiest and crunchiest fried chicken and the buttermilkiest and sweetest waffles and syrup. "Oil," Auntie Gina said. "You want your breading like this, you've got to fry it in rivers of oil." We talked a little bit more about how Harry liked to squeeze a blop of syrup from the bottle on each bite of chicken and waffle just so he could get the exact amount of maple flavor, and everybody laughed.”

“The reality is that our economy now consists of driving 250 million vehicles around the suburbs and malls and eating fried chicken. We don't manufacture much. We just burn up ever scarcer petroleum in the ever-expanding suburbs built with mortgage money lent to people who haven't a clue.”

“The schemes to set up blacks in cleaning stores, gas stations, hamburger stands and fried-chicken franchises, all the low-profit, low-capital enterprises, will rivet the Black man to the least remunerative section of the economy forever. The best such prospects offer are the dissatisfactions of blue-collar life. The big money ain't in pumping rationed gas in an Amoco station leased in your very own name, but in having stock in Exxon.”

“I think that one of the problems that exists in the United States and in many places in the world is that people don't believe that they can make a difference. So a lot of times we're defeated before we even start. We've become consumers of a world vision, of Kentucky Fried Chicken, of McDonalds.”

“The real enemy is not fat but us. We are the misusers; we are the greedy ones. If we have no better sense than to purposefully destroy ourselves, it is no wonder that nature punishes us with vile diseases and calls in our maker long before their time. Nature remembers every extra bite of cherry pie, T-bone steak, fried chicken, pizza.”

“Zerts' are what I call desserts. 'Trée-trées' are entrées. I call sandwiches 'sammies,' 'sandoozles,' or 'Adam Sandlers.' Air conditioners are 'cool blasterz' with a 'z' - I don't know where that came from. I call cakes 'big ol' cookies.' I call noodles 'long-ass rice.' Fried chicken is 'fry-fry chicky-chick.' Chicken parm is 'chicky-chicky-parm-parm.' Chicken cacciatore? 'Chicky-cacc.' I call eggs 'pre-birds,' or 'future birds.' Root beer is 'super water.' Tortillas are 'bean blankets.' And I call forks 'food rakes.'”

“Miami, which has already aired, has this wonderful blend of Caribbean culture and Latin American culture and Southern American culture (talking about fried chicken). All those combine to make for a very very interesting array of ingredients, restaurants, and the chefs that come there. It also has great seafood, not to mention the glorious citrus that's there. And all those things inform what you do - and they should.”