Sundays in Croton

My North Carolinian grandmother Luesta Duers and my mom Margaret Opie in front of our family home in Croton, 1970s

My other fried chicken memory comes from our family home in Croton. Like a lot of other folks with southern roots—hers in Windsor, North Carolina, my mom, who enjoyed cooking like I do, did her most serious throwing down in the kitchen on Sunday mornings. It almost always revolved around frying chicken which is a very labor intensive process. Mom would cut the chicken that came from the Grand Union in town in those yellow or white cello-foam platters and sealed with plastic wrap. She then cleaned, seasoned, and floured it. Then came the frying in a big old deep dish multiple-purpose cast iron skillet. Many cooks used one, and I still use one, to bake cornbread or biscuits made from scratch and served with lots of butter. Over the years I have enjoyed Sunday dinner after church at black folks homes from Syracuse to Atlanta. I learned that the Sunday fried chicken tradition had been pretty universal among black folks and the homemade side dishes, breads, and desserts served with it had also been relatively the same too