Grandma's Chicken

I am pretty sure that I have mentioned my boys and their love affair with eating chicken off the bone or "chicken bones" as they call them, so forgive me if I am repeating myself.  We have been frequently visiting KFC and buying more rotisserie chicken from our local supermarket than we ever have, all for them, and I don't see it ending anytime soon.  My own Grandpa "T," (and Dad for that matter), are also very big on chicken.  My grandpa once told Chad and I that he would eat the bones if he could.  I myself am of a different sort.  I prefer little to no meat in the first place.  I do not care too see or taste any kind of fat, bone, tendon, you name it on anything that I eating.  I am also not a big fan of eating the skin, and seeing any kind of meat pink or underdone is not palatable in my book.  More than once after making a meal for my family I simply could not eat it after having to touch and work with it raw.  So naturally, although I am okay with buying drumsticks for my boys, I honestly cannot watch them eat their chicken without becoming grossed out.  However, it does bring a smile to my face to see such big appetites, and I can picture my father and grandfather being the same way when they were young.  

Dinner time has always been such a hassle for me.  I like to cook, I really do, but only if those I cook for enjoy it.  I also hate trying to plan dinner last minute.  So, for the last year or so, I started making a menu on Saturday for the upcoming week, just like my own mother did.  I pick out 5 meals for the upcoming week, trying to get a least one meal that each child likes, and make a shopping list that I hand over to my trusty sidekick, (i.e. Chad), to take to the store.  (Wednesday night is "whatever you want" and it is leftover or cereal night, and we usually take the kids out one night.)

 

It just so happens that Chad's Grandmother makes excellent fried chicken.  I remember back when we were just dating and I was learning about his family.  Let's just say that I did not know much about Grandma before I met her, but I knew that she knew how to make a mean fried chicken.  This was mostly due to the fact that her chicken was all he could talk about when her name was brought up.   

Knowing my boys' love of chicken, and that we are now lucky enough to be living close to Chad's grandmother, I asked her a couple of months ago if she could come and make chicken for us, knowing that my boys would be ecstatic.  Well, the weather and sickness took over, months flew by, and fried chicken had still not been crossed off my little menu.  This week with the nice weather and Grandpa's clean bill of health, we were excited to have both of them over.  I made homemade mashed potatoes and rolls to go with, and Grandma's chicken did not disappoint. 

   

Someday, maybe I will have the stomach to try and fry them up as she does.  But somehow, I just know it won't be the same.  Chad will say it is not as good as Grandma's, and I think, he will be right.