Not So Country Fried

Do you ever announce “Dinner time!” and wait for the impending “Aaaaawwe…” of disapproval when they sit down at the table?  Makes you feel so awesome when you’ve been preparing dinner for an hour or two, doesn’t it?

I will admit that dinner warranted such a response tonight. 



I can’t fry battered floured foods, period.  There must be some tricks of the frying trade that I have not discovered, apparently. I remember trying to fry some chicken a few years ago, trying to make this big dinner to impress Big D.  I had to call my sister and confirm that I did in fact need to dip the chicken in egg, not just flour.  That was a real rookie mistake, since a recipe would clearly call for egg or buttermilk or some type of liquid of preference.  After that, I tried frying on several other occasions without the pressure to impress.  Same results.  The chicken is not crunchy.  It is soggy, or burnt, and the best part (the skin) is remaining stuck to the pan.

Tonight, I thought I could redeem myself, and try to make country fried steak.  Have I even tried a country fried steak in the past?  No.  My internal monologue halfway through frying goes something like this: Really.  Who honestly tries to cook something they have never eaten before?  Well, besides me.  What a silly endeavor…it could have been disastrous…thank goodness for nonstick pans.

If you haven’t already pieced together the results of this frying attempt…soggy “crust,” burnt crust, dried flour…  I am too ashamed to even post pictures.  I followed a recipe as far as the actual frying went.  I chose my own way to season the flour.  It was just not working in my favor.

The only reason this was not a disastrous meal was because Big D came home and ate 4 (I think).  He’s had it before, he is from the south, he knows an edible country fried steak when he eats one.  Or he could have totally been trying to make me feel better, as a good partner would do.  Either way, there won’t be any leftovers.  It’ll be like it never happened.
       
We all have blunders in the kitchen.  Frying is just one of the few skills I didn’t inherit from my mother.  (Boy can she fry up some chicken!)  In our house, we hardly eat fried foods.  I’m pretty much off the hook for this, considering I’m out of practice.  And after today, I don’t mind one bit if I never have to fry anything again.  My pride is still hurt when I flunked out in the kitchen and I’m greeted at the dinner table by disappointed faces.  To look on the brighter much prettier side, it could have been inedible…   

Country “not-so-fried” steak – I am picking my pride up off of the floor and walking away.  We shall meet again.

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