How can something so bad, be so good? Juicy chicken thighs left to steep in a marinade of buttermilk, seasoning and cayenne pepper and deep-fried to a crisp 24 hours later. The acidity of the buttermilk quite literally breaks down the proteins of the chicken flesh to render meat so succulent and tender, it oozed lovely, shiny fat with every bite. To accompany it, a classic creamy coleslaw, tangy with mustard and lemon juice and a drop of blood from whence I sliced my finger along with the cabbage (boy did that hurt). For the requisite carb, C requested his favourite corn on the cob—slathered in butter and left to cook on the grill. To unclog the arteries, a brisk walk around the block and a glass of fresh lemonade. What's not to like?
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