Ohhhh, right. The fried chicken.

That fried chicken. That fried fucking chicken.

You see where I’m going with this?

It was good, I guess. It was definitely fried, had a pretty good level of breading (not too little, not too much), and I did not burn the house down.

The problem was in the spice rub. My proportions were ok, I just used wayyy too much of it. By damn that was some salty fried chicken. By damn that was some paprika-y fried chicken. I ate my share and Emily, god love her, ate hers too. She even managed to work in words like “good” and “tasty” while she wasn’t preoccupied with keeping her heart from shutting down due to the overwhelming levels of sodium.

Next time, we figured, we’ll go with much less of a spice rub. Also instead of rubbing the chicken with spices and then coating it in flour, we’ll just mix the spices in to the flour to begin with.

I think with fried chicken, less is often more. With mine there was definitely alot of the more, and so the overall taste was, well, less.


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