July 14, 1966

Let's Serve Coffee In Coffee Cups

A moderate amount of success in advancing the proper methods of cooking eggs and hamburgers some months ago emboldens me to strike a blow for civilized treatment of southern fried chicken and coffee.

In an earlier column, you may remember, I cautioned a delicate touch, for the egg and the hamburger are shy creatures. The egg must be cooked very, very — again, I say, very — slowly. A hot sidewalk is ideal. A right proper hamburger is one ground only minutes before the ordeal of fire. One pound of meat has one acre of surface, and putrefaction sets in immediately upon exposure to air.

Chicken and coffee, on the other hand, must be treated with firmness.

Like all the great ideas of history, the key to frying chicken in the manner of the South is simple. It must be skinned before flouring and frying.

This is not to say that fried chicken with its epidermis intact is not good eating. It's just that it is not SOUTHERN fried.

Oh! how my Dixie blood churns when I discover restaurants dipping pieces of chicken in egg and flour mixtures before a quick pass through the deep fryer. Only damyankees would approach such a vile creation.

Here, then, is the one and only and original and genuine recipe for southern fried chicken.

Cut the chicken into parts — legs, thighs, wishbone, split breasts. Don't forget to cut out the wishbone as a separate part. This is the "fun" piece, and just the right size for the baby or old maid aunts.

Remove the skin from each part.

Put the pieces into a paper bag along with a cup of flour, and salt and pepper to taste. Fancy people also add a dash of paprika for color and one or two other spices for effect. These are unnecessary, but harmless, touches.

Shake the chicken parts thoroughly in the bag of flour, then place them on a dish to rest FOR A HALF HOUR. This is the secret of crisp, thin, tasty flavor seals. The flour must absorb the natural juices of the meat — impossible with the skin in place or it won't pass mammy's taste test.

Fry the chicken well done.

There you are. No fuss, no muss. And it's just as good cold the next day as hot right now. Maybe better.

Coffee has a dual purpose in life — but both require the beverage to be hearty.

In the morning, coffee is a transfusion to pump energy into sagging arteries. A weak cup at this time is medical malpractice. At all other times, the noble drink is a social event and should be prolonged by sipping. A sip of weak coffee tastes like anemic dish water and is fit only for people who dip chicken in batter.

My friends, in an effort to accommodate my eccentric taste for coffee when I come to visit, generally manufacture dark brown varnish for me. It's pretty good radiator sealer but sticks to my teeth.

All I ask is TWO rounded tablespoons of good percolator coffee to one measuring cup of water — and nothing "for the pot." All coffee roasters gladly furnish little measuring spoons which meter out the correct ration.

There are many good coffees on the market and many insipid ones. Maxwell House and Chase & Sanborn brands are available at all grocers and can be relied on for a saucy cup of java if the right amount of ground bean is used.

I like a little bit of sugar and lots of cream in my coffee. However, I acknowledge that it is possible to develop a taste for "black" coffee if it is weak. It has been my observation that in these latter cases the coffee is not savored but used as a wash to ease down other food.

For a pleasant change, try a pinch of chicory in your coffee. This is the closely guarded ingredient of Pullman car and posh hotel coffee. It adds a hearty taste and aroma that makes coffee a perfect companion to southern friend chicken — both being innovations from below the Mason-Dixon line.

Having company? Make coffee part of the festivities by dressing it up with interesting side arms. Cocoa beans — for heavens sake! NOT powdered cocoa — make a delicious addition to coffee. Shaved bitter chocolate is a good substitute for the natural cocoa bean.

Lemon peel and/or allspice berries is scrumptious in strong black coffee. Some folks like cloves or cinnamon stick. For those who like a little cow with their coffee, a glob of whipped cream is elegant.

My all-time favorite for guests is Cafe Brulot (rhymes with low).

In a narrow bottomed chafing dish place one slice of lemon and orange peel, 4 cubes of sugar, 2 cloves, a piece of cinnamon stick and one-fourth vanilla bean. Wet the sugar with two or three tablespoons of brandy and crush each ingredient. Pour in two cups of very strong coffee and serve in demitasses.

For a little show, you can pour in a cup of brandy and set a match to it. It's a lot of fun but a waste of good brandy as but a tablespoon o , two is all that is left when the fire goes out.

And let's get one last thing straight: coffee should be served in a coffee cup! Sounds fundamental, doesn't it? But the sad truth is that 99 and 44/100 percent of the American populace serve coffee in tea cups.

A coffee cup is exactly half again as large as a tea cup and has a mouth no larger than its bottom — the better to keep the coffee hot, my dears.

In the olden days, as my teenage daughter quaintly puts it, we used to turn out decent coffee cups that were near mugs. Nowadays we can buy pottery monsters with cute pictures and "Dad" scrawled on the side, or half-size freaks. These are gags and an offense against good taste. Gone are the graceful, bone china containers of yesteryear.

Antique shops occasionally have true cup-and-a half coffee mugs for sale, but they grow scarcer as coffee lovers snap them up. My own coffee cup, a gorgeous thing purchased for five cents at a church bazaar, was destroyed recently by a diabolic dish washing machine.

My morning coffee ritual is now a haphazard affair of juggling coffee in tea cups, but at least I have elixir to stay my broodings about cooks and dishwashers.

Author: Lindsey Williams