I believe I am somewhat a connoisseur of fried chicken for the wackiest reason.  As a child of five, I had the unfortunate quirk of vomiting if I had to eat in a restaurant or any public place. Don’t ask why! This drove my parents to frantic distraction.

Once when my parents had to drive to Chicago for a wedding, they left me with my aunt and uncle, who announced that we’d be going to a restaurant for dinner. My stomach began a roller-coaster ride at the very thought. The restaurant’s specialty was chicken in the basket. My aunt said, “Just try one bite. If you don’t want it you don’t have to eat it.” One bite and I was hooked. Convinced that it was the chicken that held my stomach in check, I always ordered fried chicken whenever we went out to dinner. And thus I was cured.

My recipe for fried chicken has been developing over two decades. I have tried myriad coatings, brinings, and cooking methods. My fried-chicken requirements: flavorful, moist inside, but not soggy, and a very crispy crust. I discovered that for flavor and succulence a dry-herb rub is essential. I’ve tried the buttermilk brining method and find it simply too wet and mushy, so I modified the process. Bread- or cracker-crumb coatings did not provide a satisfactory result. Neither did a plain flour dredge. Deep frying is totally unnecessary. So here is the result of years of experimentation. I’ve served this to some very picky fried-chicken eaters and the result was a chorus of oohs and aahs.

First I mix salt, pepper, cayenne, paprika, thyme, and powdered bay leaf in a bowl. Here, use whatever seasonings you like (the salt is essential, however). I have an aversion to the taste of powdered onion and garlic but many like them in their rubs.

Next I rub each chicken piece in the herb mixture. I place the rubbed chicken in a porcelain bowl, cover it in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 8 hours, or overnight.

Beat together one egg and 1/2 cup of buttermilk and pour that over the chicken in the bowl. I recover it and let it sit in the refrigerator for 2 to 3 hours. This is enough just to moisten the chicken (without sogginess) and to allow the coating to adhere better.

Next I mix together three flours—whole wheat, white, and semolina—with a little more salt, pepper, and paprika in a plastic bag.  The semolina gives an added crunch to the coating. You can substitute cornmeal, but I don’t find it as satisfying. I dredge one piece at a time in the flour mixture. I like to use tongs for this because it’s quite messy. Dry the pieces on a rack at room temperature for about 1 1/2 hours. This is necessary to set the coating. It also prevents a lot of spattering when you fry the chicken to have it at room temperature.

Heat enough oil in a skillet to cover the chicken pieces by half to 350°. I like to use an electric skillet for this purpose. It keeps the heat even and cuts down further on splattering. Though optional, I use a small piece of smoked ham or bacon in the oil to add to the flavor. Don’t crowd the chicken pieces in the skillet. Turn the pieces several times until they are golden brown on all sides. This takes about 15-20 minutes per batch.

When finished drain on paper towels. If you’ve kept your heat even, your chicken will be clean-fried and not at all greasy.

Served with homemade potato salad, fresh greens, and buttermilk cornbread, you have the perfect summer meal or picnic. For me, any leftover fried chicken is delicious cold.

To print or download the recipe, click here.

To learn more about my quirks, as well as my colorful life in music theater, check out my autobiography The Wrong Side of the Room: A Life in Music Theater here.