It’s National Fried Chicken Day. Who doesn’t like fried chicken? I always thought this dish was a southern “invention” but according to the National Day of Calendar, it was introduced to the southern part of the U. S. by Scottish immigrants. I sure would have gotten that question wrong were I playing Jeopardy.

I have to admit I have never made fresh, coat it yourself, fried chicken. I guess it’s because I’ve never been around someone that knew how to do it the right way and come out with a juicy inside, crisp outside, piece of cooked meat. I have used some Shake-n-Bake in my day, but found it too salty for my taste. About once a year I get a hankering for Kentucky Fried Chicken with mashed potatoes, cole slaw and a roll. Once a year is enough because the amount of salt in the coating outweighs the taste of the chicken.

When I was a kid, my mother believed in fresh food, but occasionally she would let me have a Swanson TV dinner. I always picked the fried chicken. There’s just something about picking up a chicken leg to eat that satisfies the primal. Of course a napkin at hand was a necessity.

These days I do eat a fair amount of deep fried chicken in the form of Buffalo Wings. They originated in Buffalo, NY. Every once in a while the group I am with will have a good laugh about being expected to eat the chicken wing when we were young. It was considered the least important part of the chicken back then. Now, it is fried, slathered in hot sauce and people order them on purpose, ten or twelve at a time. In fact, I have some leftovers in the fridge from the last time we went out. I guess they will be my lunch today.