Cluck cluck

Growing up in a town of 400 people (Fancy Farm, Kentucky), we didn’t have a lot of restaurant choices.  So, on special occasions like birthdays, my mother would let us choose our favorite meal, and she would cook…because she was a fabulous cook.

My favorite?

Fried chicken. Mashed potatoes. Lima beans.  Sometimes biscuits, too.  A little slice of heaven on earth…and no one made it better than my mom.

I mention this because it’s National Fried Chicken Day.  I never knew July 6th had this designation, or I would have made sure mom cooked my favorite meal that day as well.  I would have had the excuse to indulge every year on this day, too, because I don’t eat fried chicken that much anymore.

I’m not sure why.  It’s high in protein, and the breading really doesn’t add that many carbs to the mix.  Where I probably sin the most is in the amount of mashed potatoes I can put away — if they’re smooth and creamy the way I like ’em, I can eat an entire family-size serving.

Man, I’m hungry.

Hope I can find some fried chicken here in NYC…’cause it’s National Fried Chicken Day, damn it, and a Southern gal’s gotta celebrate.