For a few years now, my brother has hinted/suggested/ordered that one of these years, I should make him Alton Brown's fried chicken for his birthday. I had demurred, because of completely incorrect memories of how complicated it was.
But this year I'm going to do it. And it's not bad at all, really. An overnight soak in buttermilk, a shake of seasoning, a dusting of flour, twelve minutes in a pound of shortening, flip, twelve more minutes. I did a practice run last night to work some of the kinks out, as I generally have trouble with frying, and learned some important things.