Nigella Lawson’s Fried Chicken Sandwich

‘Fried’, ‘Chicken’ and ‘Sandwich’: three alluring enough words on their own; together, they promise pure, unbridled pleasure. And, frankly, that’s the only kind of pleasure I’m interested in. For this reason, I rarely feel the urge to eat this out. Or perhaps, it’s truer to say, it’s an urge I am unlikely to act upon. I’m not saying I never would, or never have, but I am increasingly squeamish about the kind of chicken I’m going to get, and am so much happier, so very much happier, making my own at home when I can have a quiet – or rather, noisily crunchy – dinner alone. And it’s simple enough to do. I concede the idea of deep-frying can make one hesitate, but frying one single chicken thigh is a very much less hot and bothersome activity than you might imagine. I use my 22cm heavy-based pan for this but do use a wok if you prefer.

It’s hardly a takeaway-at-home impulse dinner, however, as the chicken ideally needs to marinate for quite a few hours (although, in extremis, you can leave it out on the kitchen counter for 20 minutes instead). But I like working my way up to this very special solo supper, and I plan it lovingly, making sure I get the chicken thigh fillet in its sharp, spicy marinade a good day before I’m going to be eating it. And while I have stipulated in the ingredients list what else you’ll need for your sandwich, I am merely reporting on how I like to eat it. You may choose to ignore my suggestions entirely: there is no more personal food than a sandwich and I expect you to have your own strongly held views as to what to put in yours.

Chinese Chilli Crisp oil is a staple in my kitchen but really, any chilli component works along with the mayonnaise; if using a sweeter sauce though omit the honey. For me, shredded iceberg is pretty well non-negotiable, but I’ll use cos (which you may know as romaine) uncomplainingly in its stead. And while I used to consider pickles essential, I increasingly want some sour-sharp kimchi in their place. If I don’t have any, then I swap in some coarsely grated carrot and a fierily generous splodge of the Fermented Hot Sauce from p.300 of Cook, Eat, Repeat, which is just perfect with the crisp-coated, juicy-fleshed chicken. And it would be so very wrong of me not to tell you that the Caesar Mayo (p.16) makes this into a rich and sumptuous surf ’n’ turf feast.

I always have kefir in the house, since I make it daily, but do use buttermilk or plain yogurt in its place. As for the bread you will be using for your sandwich, a burger bun might seem the obvious choice, but I am not always happy about the burger buns you can buy. If you strike lucky, go for it. Otherwise, I think regular soft white bread, whether out of a packet, or cut from a loaf, is the way to go. The Old-Fashioned Sandwich Loaf on p.43 is just made for this and, incidentally, there’s no reason, I suppose, that you couldn’t use the dough to make burger buns.

During lockdown, when I was running down my supplies before shopping again, I made this once with duck fat and once with schmaltz, that’s to say, chicken fat (which I got out of a jar, rather than rendering down the fat from the skins from hundreds of chickens) and it was sensational with both. But then, it is when fried in oil, too.