Fried Chicken on a Diet Blog? Of Course!

I know I am called The Dieting Gourmand giving the impression that there will be, like, food on this blog. I’ve spent most of this precious blog space bitching so I am going to throw you the super secret Fried Chicken recipe that has been passed down in my family for generations. (Lie.) My grandmother carried this recipe from Scotland under a spray of bullets to this country so she may continue sharing this pinnacle of chickenness. (Another lie.) This is a recipe that puts all chicken recipes to shame. (Big lie.)

Actually, I think my mother came up with this when the pantry was bare and was working with what she had. However, sometimes the best things come from desperation and this is one of them. Like they say (Whoever “they” are.), necessity is the mother of invention. Keep in mind though that this recipe is all relative. You can add or subtract where you like. I’ve used yogurt instead of buttermilk and sometimes simply milk. So have fun but if you add sardines and capers, I don’t want anything to do with you. We have nothing in common. Really.

What you need for chicken awesomeness –

-    Package of Fresh Chicken Legs, skinned. (Before you go all scrappy and call me a heathen for removing the skin, try it first!)
-    Carton of Low-Fat Buttermilk (This is a diet blog, duh.)
-    1 Egg
-    3 cups of All-Purpose Flour
-    1 cup of Parmesan Cheese (Canned is okay but fresh is all gourmet like.)
-    ¼ cup of Seasoning Salt (Yes, the orange stuff. Sue me.)
-    Salt and Pepper to taste
-    Vegetable oil in a pan, electric skillet or a deep fryer. I prefer the pan method because it adds more flavor and is easier to control but a deep fryer is just fun.

Things to do to make this chicken get into your face –

-    Whisk together buttermilk and egg. Skin chicken legs (Play out your Buffalo Bill fantasies here.) and place in bowl and cover with buttermilk mixture. Let marinate, refrigerated for an hour.
-    Mix together flour, Parmesan cheese, seasoning salt and salt and pepper in bowl. Sometimes when I am feeling sexy I will use Old Bay too. This is where you can have fun. Cheddar in the flour mixture and buffalo hot sauce in the buttermilk mixture? Hell yes.
-    When chicken has marinated for an hour and you have donned your gas mask to deal with the buttermilk funk (I think buttermilk smells like death.) it’s time to dredge. Simply take a leg out, dip in the flour mixture and put it aside. Keep the flour mixture handy though.
-    Preheat your deep fryer, electric skillet or frying pan to 375°degrees.
-    When you are ready to fry take each leg and re-toss it in the flour and put it in the oil. (You don't have to do this but I think it adds a nice crispness.) Fry until golden brown and delicious! 
-    Present it on a plate you stole from your co-worker and decorate with a single spinach leaf. (Okay, not necessary.)

To keep it diet friendly I have 2 legs with a huge, beautiful salad. That’s what it’s about. It’s fried but if you keep it balanced you can enjoy all foods in moderation. That’s what I’m hoping. This is wonderful hot or cold and great for barbeques and picnics. You can also use thighs, breasts, make nuggets and this is also great for fish too.

It might not be the bestest chicken recipe out there but it’s pretty damn good. I hope you enjoy! Now back to the regularly scheduled bitching.

Hate

I've been waffling with this post for better part of an hour. This is a hard one for me. There are sometimes I hate myself so much I just want to disappear. I fall into moments of such deep despair that it is mind numbing. Now that my body is changing, it's worse.

What if I have extra skin? What if I can't afford plastic surgery to fix it? I don't want to get plastic surgery! The most shocking though, where the hell are my boobs going?!! Well for now I haven't change cup size but they are changing. The ol' negative body image is just following me around and overshadowing the fact that I have lost weight and I have changed for the better. I am helping my heart, my liver and so much more but I can't get past the physical.

Also, I am feeling bad that I didn't start this sooner. I'm on the fence with this though. I think in this whole thing I'm doing was a lot of factors finally converging into me finally getting the nerve up to diet and exercise. I don't think it would have happened a year ago or 5 years ago. Now, this time is the time. Still think about it though.

AND.

I'm sort of single now. So meeting people for a person who doesn't like people who doesn't like herself is incredibly difficult.

SIGH.

Who moved my soap?

See that there? That's soap. Very expensive nano-silver soap. What the hell is soap doing on a dieting blog?

I'LL TELL YOU.

My slobby brother is spending some time here. He knew full well that I spent $15 on a soap because it helps with breaks-outs I have. (Did I tell you it is the size of your average half-dollar? Yeah.) He was been warned under the penalty of death, destruction and mayhem not to use this soap of soaps. In other words if I find out that the soap was used I would rip his face off and then feed it to the cats.

 So today after receiving this soap a few days ago I went to go wash my face and found the soap...gone. Disappeared. Kaput. I know the cats haven't acquired the taste of soap yet. (Just bacon, cheese, cat litter, black socks, cardboard and cold tea so far. I haven't tested human flesh yet.) I do know he has just taken a shower. Lucky for him he is out and unlucky for me I am seething with rage.

Seething. Angry because he pulls this shit all the time. I know it's just soap but it was really expensive soap. My whole life I've had issues with him and this was the last straw. So, I'm mad and I found my self trolling the kitchen and I caught myself. I was mad at my brother but I wanted to shove food in my mouth. He wasn't there to yell at so I was prepared to take it out on myself.

It was like I was on autopilot. I was feeling intense emotions and like a robot I went to the fridge. I had the fridge open and I was rifling before I realized what I was doing. I can tell you for a fact if I had any of the crap I used to keep around it would have been in my face faster than you can say "She spent what on soap?".

I think everyone comforts themselves with food at some points in their lives. I mean there wouldn't be "comfort food" if we didn't but I took it to the extremes. In high school I had ordered candy from one of those fundraisers and I remember watching 90210 while eating the whole box and then a whole bag of Doritos. It wasn't a treat or something yummy...it was medicine. Medicine for a sad girl who got pepper sprayed that day for simply being fat. (I think the guy who did it is now a cop. Regardless, I don't think I have a problem throwing Sriracha in his eyes. I can't wait for the reunion!)

Well food isn't medicine. Thinking about it now I would have killed for an ice cream cone or four when I was angry but I thought it would make me feel worse in the end because I have worked really hard so I grabbed the closest dog and went running. Angry running is a whole different thing and I enjoyed it.

Turns out he thought it was hotel soap and he used the whole bar...on his feet. (You know no court in the US would fault me for maiming the boy.) He bought me a new bar but I think this whole situation taught me I am allowed to be angry and I don't need food to make me feel better.

(I'm still mad and now have decided to keep some Sriracha Rooster Sauce on hand for such occasions.)

(Photo Credit - Dermstore.com)

I Hate Facebook

I'm anti-social by nature. Almost to the point where one of my dreams is to live in the mountains of Alaska, collect cats and only come to town for toilet paper and Wild Turkey. I figure I'm conditioned for this. When I was a kid I wasn't fat. I was just big, never petite and taller than the kids my age. Children being the evil little beasts they are, focused on this and I was labeled the “Fat Girl” at the tender age of 4.

I never had a chance.

I was teased with mercilessly all through school. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I was tortured. I got it from all sides. Mom wasn’t happy that I was bigger and kids thought being fat was akin to kicking puppies and skinning hamsters. It was hell. I got through it though but there are definite lingering effects. I tend to be a people pleaser (Except when I’m driving.) and I always think people are looking at me or talking about me, mostly because they did. Normally I would soothe myself with food. Lots of food. Now I don’t have that. I can’t turn to food anymore so I am stuck in a weird cycle of depression and overall distaste for humanity.

Things are bothering me more. It’s like that line of defense is gone. It's almost crushing. Like Facebook. To be honest it’s my own damn fault that I’m anti-social and when I see that someone went zip lining while on fire I am seething with jealousy. I don’t like change or a change in my routine because it’s safe to me. I’ve lost friends I love and haven’t done the things I love because I hate myself. It’s so easy to blame my mother and blame those bastards at school but it’s all me.

All still living with my Dad me. I suppose it breaks down to the fact that I am trying to lose what’s keeping me from the world and I’m still resisting going into the world. I want so much more from life but I can’t figure out how to get it.