The Sound of Summer
- Details
- Category: Home, Decor, Gardens
- Published on Sunday, 24 June 2012 21:38
- Written by Michael Ryan
- Hits: 11314
Despite setting my alarm clock every evening, what wakes me isn't the buzzing of some mechanical gadget, but rather the vigilant woodpecker dedicated to his craft right outside my window.
Each morning at around 5:30 he's ready to work on my copper rain gutters, which are obviously not up to his standards. Hearing his beak collide with the gutters, I pull back the covers. It's time to follow nature's example and start the day.
From there, I head to Starbucks with my Portuguese Waterdog, Summer. He waits patiently next the newsstand while the neighbors say their hellos and hand him treats. (I swear that more people know that Muppet of a dog than me some days.) Once that iced skim latte hits my hand, I'm out the door. With Summer by my side, we walk to the shore. The sounds of the sails flapping in the wind combined with the overheard conversations of the sailing crew, known to the locals as the Blue Shirts, we dash for the water.
At first, with Summer living for the waves, we play a few rounds of fetch. He leaps over the waves as far as possible until he can no longer reach the false bottom that the seiche provides. That's when he really shines. Hearing him pant with each stroke he seems as unstoppable and as unchangeable as the season itself. Swimming past buoys and clashing with the water, he finally reaches that tennis ball and returns victoriously to the sand.
After a couple hours lying on the designated beach cloth, we trudge back. Exhausted from the sun, I let Summer recuperate at home while I set up the sprinklers and head for the market with one item in mind: chicken, otherwise known as a little piece of heaven. If I've learned anything from Martha Stewart or Art Smith is how to make a batch of buttermilk fried chicken. More me, it's the perfect end to a perfect summer day. To sit on the front porch with my dinner in hand, watching the lightning bugs slowly appear and hearing the crickets make their musical score of the evening I realize that I couldn't ask for anything more.
The story continues at www.michaelryandesign.com and www. michaelryandesign.tumblr.com/ . I hope to see you there.
Art Smith’s Buttermilk Fried Chicken
Ingredients:
- 1/2 cup plus 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 4 quarts cold water
- 4 quarts ice
- one 4-pound chicken, cut into 8 pieces
- 1 quart buttermilk
- 1 tablespoon Franks Red Hot hot sauce
- 3 eggs, lightly beaten
- 2 cups White Lilly self-rising flour
- 1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves
- 1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder
- 1 1/2 teaspoons Old Bay Seasoning
- 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
- 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- Vegetable oil, for frying
Directions:
In a pot, dissolve 1/2 cup of the salt in the water and ice. Submerge the chicken in the brine; refrigerate overnight.
Drain and rinse the chicken. Rinse out the pot. Add the buttermilk and hot sauce submerge the chicken in the buttermilk and refrigerate for 8 hours or overnight. Remove chicken from the buttermilk. Place the eggs and hot sauce in a mixing bowl and add the chicken allowing it to be lightly coated with the egg mixture. Remove from the egg mixture.
In a shallow bowl, mix the flour, thyme leaves, garlic powder, Old Bay, cayenne, black pepper and the remaining 1 teaspoon of salt. Shake the excess marinade off the chicken, and then dredge in the flour. Dip the chicken back into the buttermilk and coat again in the flour.
Meanwhile, in a large cast-iron skillet, heat 1 inch of vegetable oil to 375°. Fry the chicken in batches until golden and cooked through, about 6 minutes per side. Drain on paper towels and serve.
