Back when I was an omnivore, the newspaper printed the recipe for Chicken Fried Steak from an Austin treasure: The Broken Spoke. This recipe is one of their claims to fame, so I thought I would try to make it for my husband.
Shall I tell you right now that things did not go as planned? I shall: Things did not got as planned. I used most of the plates and utensils that we owned. All horizontal surfaces in the kitchen were covered with something associated with preparing this recipe.
The oil splattered up out of the skillet (ow! ow!) and the smoke set off the smoke alarm. When I finished, flour spiced with salt and pepper coated the kitchen cupboards.
It took me the better part of two weeks to clean all the kitchen nooks and crannies, getting out the oil and flour. I don’t remember how the Chicken Fried Steak tasted, I seem to have blocked that from my memory.
Now when my husband wants Chicken Fried Steak, we go out. The most difficult part of that decision is where to go. I vote for the Broken Spoke.