Fried Chicken Read Online Free PDF

what it tastes like when you do chicken right. That’s bullshit! Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit!”
    When he calms, Luciano turns reflective. “America is a nation of mutts, of strays,” he tells me. “I’m one of them. I’m a mutt who got his start in the restaurant business cooking like I imagined a great Italian chef would. Now people know me for this fried chicken. I tell them, ‘Stay off this stuff,’ I say, ‘Never eat it more than once a week,’ I tell them, ‘It’ll kill you,’ but they keep coming, keep eating fried chicken when I’m trying to convince them to go next door, to try some rapini, taste some eggplant. But what can you do? This is America. We have free will. At least my fried chicken is worth the investment in cholesterol.”
    I’m beginning to like this guy. What’s more, I know that I like his chicken. I have come to appreciate his rant for what it is: pride in craft, pride in tradition. Never mind that the tradition is not his own. After we shake hands, and he withdraws to the Chef Luciano side of the business, I double back for a two-piece drumstick snack. Perhaps he wouldn’t approve, but I just can’t help myself.
    Italian-American Fried Chicken
    TUSCANY BY WAY OF CHICAGO AND MANHATTAN
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    Italian fried chicken is no faddish faux-fusion dish. While researching this book I came across a recipe for Fried Chicken Italienne from the White House Cookbook of 1887: “Make common batter; mix into it a cupful of chopped tomatoes, one onion chopped, some minced parsley, salt and pep- ( continued ) per. Cut up young, tender chickens, dry them well, and dip each piece into the batter; then fry brown in plenty of butter, in a thick bottom frying pan. Serve with tomato sauce.” Better is this Tuscan fried chicken courtesy of Cesare Casella, chef and proprietor of Beppe in Manhattan. Think of it as an homage to Chef Luciano of Gourmet Fried Chicken in Chicago (who laughed when I asked if he would share his own recipe).
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    â–  3-to-4-pound chicken, cut into 10 pieces and
trimmed of extra fat
■ Juice of 2 lemons
■ Peanut oil
■ 2 cups all-purpose flour
■ Salt and pepper to taste
■ 2 eggs, beaten lightly and seasoned with salt
and pepper
■ 2 sprigs fresh thyme
■ 2 sprigs fresh rosemary
■ 4 cloves garlic
■ 1 lemon, cut into wedges
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    Squeeze lemon juice over the chicken and rub it into the flesh. Cover the chicken with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight.
    Remove from the refrigerator an hour before cooking so that the chicken reaches room temperature.
    Pour the oil into a large frying pan until it is one-third full. Heat the oil to 350°. It should not smoke. Mix the flour with some salt and pepper. Dredge the chicken pieces in the flour, then dip them into the beaten eggs. Add the chicken to the pan. Do not over-crowd the pan; there should be plenty of room between pieces. Let the oil drop to a simmer of about 325°. Cook for 15 minutes, or until an internal thermometer registers 170° for dark meat, 160° for white.
    During the last 2 minutes before removing the chicken from pan, turn up the heat to 375° to crisp. Then add the herbs and garlic for about a minute. Remove the chicken and herbs from the oil and drain on paper towels. Sprinkle more salt and pepper to taste. Squeeze fresh lemon, and serve on a platter topped with the herbs. Serves 4.
    Chicken and Stars
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    if Colonel Sanders was once the poster boy for fried chicken, who or what might replace him tomorrow? What symbol or logo can encompass an America where Italian fried chicken as served in Chicago is cooked by a native of India and sold as in African American takeout stands?
    The complexity of the question heightens if you ponder Latin fried chicken. In Los Angeles, I investigate the emerging Hispanic fried chicken phenomenon, spending a good bit of time at a fast-food chain