Crispy fried chicken: My Family’s Fried Chicken
Lets fry some chicken! Soul food is a living recipe — absorbing a rhythm so deeply you could cook it with your eyes closed. The “instructions” might not look like a recipe at all. They might just say: Cook it until it smells like Sunday.
Cook It Until It Smells Like Sunday:
Soul food is a living recipe — absorbing a rhythm so deeply you could cook it with your eyes closed.
The “instructions” might not look like a recipe at all. They might just say: Cook it until it smells like Sunday.
It’s muscle memory cooking. You don’t think “1 teaspoon of salt,” you think “a little shake until it looks right.” That comes from years of watching, tasting, and adjusting — not measuring.
It’s Flavor DNA. Families who cook this way develop a flavor fingerprint. Even if each person tweaks it slightly, the soul of the dish stays the same. You could eat it blindfolded and know it’s yours.
It’s the opposite of those viral recipe videos that rely on exact steps. You never needed a cooking class from your mom or grandpa. Just standing in the kitchen, smelling the onions, seeing how the spoon moves, hearing them say “not yet” — all of that was the class.
Whether you mean to or not, you’re keeping your family’s food culture alive. And because it’s not written down, it stays flexible — adapting to what’s available, yet always tasting like home.
How We Fry Chicken in My Family
We’re a white-meat family — and we never fry a dry breast. Ever. Here’s how we do it. No exact recipe, no fussy measuring. Just the rhythm we’ve always used.
Step 1: Clean the chicken.
Pat it dry with paper towels so the seasoning sticks.
Step 2: Season it up.
Salt, pepper, Lawry’s seasoned salt. Sometimes garlic powder (though my mom doesn’t like too much of it). Maybe a dash of hot sauce if you’re feeling it.
Step 3: Heat the oil.
Get out that big black cast iron pot that lives at the back of the stove. Vegetable oil works, but if you want the real move? Crisco shortening.
Step 4: Make the coating.
In a paper or plastic bag, toss in flour, salt, pepper, a few shakes of cornstarch (about 3/4 tablespoon), and a sprinkle of baking powder or soda (about 1/2 teaspoon). Shake it up.
Step 5: Test the oil.
Drop in a pinch of flour. If it sizzles like it’s got something to prove, it’s ready.
Step 6: Fry in batches.
About 3–4 pieces at a time. Flip a few times until each side is deep golden brown and floating around like they know they’re done.
Step 7: Let it breathe.
When you pull the chicken out, place it on a wire rack — like the bottom of a roasting pan. No paper towels. Just air. Paper will make the crust soft and soak up the oil you worked so hard to get right.
That’s it. No timer, no thermometer, no fancy flour blend. Just the way my family has done it for generations — by feel, by smell, and by taste.
If you follow it, you’re not just making fried chicken…
You’re making Sunday.
WHat do you think?
Church Lady: A Slice of Sunday
Church Lady Cake Recipe by Kareem Youngblood
As Seen on Food Network’s Spring Baking Championship
Welcome to The Cupka’ak Bar by Kareem Youngblood, a Brooklyn-born baker featured on Food Network’s Spring Baking Championship, Chopped Sweets, and Netflix’s Sugar Rush. This yellow cake with rich chocolate frosting—affectionately named Church Lady—is more than just a recipe. It’s a memory, a mood, and a tribute to the women who made Sundays sacred.
This cake is more than yellow layers and chocolate frosting—it’s a memory.
It’s sitting at my grandparents’ place after church, still dressed in your Sunday best, listening to grown folks talk, laugh, and sneak in gossip between gospel records and reruns of old shows.
The Church Lady cake is classic. Familiar. Comforting.
Just like the women who raised us with tough love, hard prayers, and unbeatable pound cake.
I don’t drink milk—never have. So my slice was always paired with a red Solo cup of that iconic church punch. You know the one. Sweet, bright red, ice cold. If the Caribbean lady made it that week? It might’ve had guava juice… maybe papaya. You never knew—but it always hit.
This is that cake.
The one that shows up at every occasion but especially matters on Sundays.
The one that says “you’re home.”
If you bake it pls tag me! also pls share your grandparents recipes with me, i would love to try it! and maybe we can make some content together around it!