Cowboy ain't that the truth. Some things only mother knows how to cook just right. Everything time I have chicken and white rice with crème of mushroom soup I swear I can hear my mom scurrying around in the kitchen. I think it is not only the food but the great memories that go with it. I have often wondered why it is called "chicken fried steak" when it is really beef. Maybe it is because it is fried like chicken. Damn now I have to go to the mom and pop and by me some real fried chicken, not that KFC crap.
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Originally posted by: CowboyKell
Ahhh pjstroh, my poor misguided friend. While I have never compared the different chicken fried steaks of Las Vegas I can tell you that there are differences.
Perhaps I should take you home to Texas, introduce you to Mother and one of the true edible CF steaks. A poor cut of meat from a rangy old bull who has lost his usefulness. Aged under a couple layers of canvas hanging through the winter in the back of the dairy barn. Cut thin by Mother herself then beat sensless with a cast iron tenderizing mallet, the kind with points all over the head. (It was watching Mother perform this job that kept me in line as a child.) Soaked for a couple of hours in some secret batter that even Mrs. Maria, the family cook, didn't know the recipe for. Pan fried fast, two at a time in a giant skillet. Blotted with a paper towel to call it healthy and served with mashed potatoes.
Well, that did it. I'm homesick. If I leave now I think I can be home by supper.
