All American meal: Fried chicken and Baked Alaska

I hosted a few friends for dinner last night, and I used the gathering as another opportunity to cook something new as well as eat something for the first time. Fried chicken is not an entirely new experience since almost every meat eating American has had fried chicken either homemade or in the form of chicken nuggets or chicken tenders. However, I have never fried my own chicken, and I wanted to make the type of fried chicken with a thick and crispy coating, similar to the coating on chicken fried steak. I turned again to Mark Bittman, who had a fried chicken recipe called Fried Chicken that Reaps Superlatives; who could refuse to try a recipe with a title like that?
Indeed this fried chicken recipe is genius. I'm a fried chicken amateur, (so this might be common knowledge to experienced southern/fry cooks) but making a thick paste of onions, parsley, tahini, and olive oil and then dredging the chicken in flour is the trick to a thick crispy coating. Double dredging the chicken is not enough. The usual egg and milk mixture that I use to fry okra is too wimpy to keep the flour glued to the chicken while it fries in hot oil. The paste creates the thick coating and thus delectable fried chicken.

After dredging the chicken in the paste and then the flour, and repeating these steps, the chicken is fried in about 1/2 inch of hot oil. My best advice is to use chicken thighs because the meat stays more moist during the frying process. In the case of this fried chicken, the best directions are to follow the Mark Bittman recipe and watch the Minimalist video to get an idea of how think the paste should be and how long to cook the chicken so it still retains its tenderness and moisture.



The second part of the meal that was totally foreign and new to me was Baked Alaska. I originally thought Baked Alaska was a savory dish involving salmon and heaps mayonnaise; the type of recipe published in woman's magazines in the 1960's, aimed at Betty Friedan's target audience whose main concern was feeding the men of the greatest generation. Apparently Baked Alaska is actually a mountain of sugar encased in a layer of meringue. My friend who came to dinner brought the components of the dessert: brownie, butter pecan ice cream, and eggs.
The dinner guests worked in shifts beating the the egg whites by hand until they peaked, and then the Baked Alaska was assembled. As one dinner guest commented, "Ice cream. Alaska. I get it. That's stupid." I can't think of a reason that this dish is called Baked Alaska except for the presence of ice cream and and the finished product is a large white mass.

The final verdict: Baked Alaska is a pretty good dinner trick--pure Americana and tasty in the right combination of cake, ice cream, and meringue. However, I don't know if I'll be making this on my own. I'd much rather my friends come over again and make it for me.