It is the perfect food for those of us who figure we’re all gonna die anyway, might as well die smiling and with a world-class gut. It’s also absolute Texas.
It is red meat. It is dipped in cholesterol and coated with flour and fried in very hot oil. It is covered with thick, white, creamy gravygravy that can also be ladled over the mashed potatoes (traditional) or the french fries (perfect).
There’s usually a vegetable. Green beans (from a can) are best, though corn (from a can) is acceptable, and okrabreaded and deep-fried (from a freezer)-is a special treat and, being fried, adds a nice nutritional touch. Thousand or French on the salad. Soft dinner rolls.
And tea. Iced-though you don’t say “iced” when you order; in Texas, “iced” with tea is as redundant as “Texas” with longhorn. Free refills.
The entire experience is Chicken-Fried Steak.
What is chicken-fried steak? It is steak fried like chicken is fried when it’s fried right, which is why it’s called what it is. It’s been around for a while.
“I wish I could put a date on it,” said Joyce Gibson Roach, author (with Ernestine Sewell Linck) of “Eats, a Folk History of Texas Foods” (Texas Christian University Press). One frontier soldier, she said, described Texans throwing meat into a vat of hot lard. “And he was just appalled at that sort of thing.”
Breading made it chicken-fried. Country-fried steak? Same thing, sometimes battered rather than breaded, and mostly in places like Alabama.
“I know it confuses a lot of Yankees and foreigners, because they think it’s chicken,” said Annetta White, who is responsible for the marvel that can be found at the Broken Spoke in Austin. “Now, some people have changed the name to `country-fried,’ but it’s still Southern-fried chicken and it’s still chicken-fried steak.”
And it is still wonderful.
Sure, it can kill you if you eat it three times a day every day for 87 consecutive years (and I say this fully aware of the legal fees generated by Cattlemen v. Oprah), but it is nonetheless wonderful.
Earlier this year, while on another assignment in the Texas Hill Country, against the wishes of my wife and without first consulting a physician, I ate six chicken-fried steaks in five days.
The restaurants were chosen based on recommendations from pals in Houston, which is not in the Hill Country but is a good restaurant town once you stop sweating; and from Texas motel clerks, gas station attendants, cafe waitresses and, a couple of times, because the places looked good from the outside and I was hungry. There was nothing scientific about this survey. The best chicken-fried steak in Texas might be in Amarillo, for all I know.
But here’s where I ate ’em and here’s what I found:
– Andy’s Diner, Fredericksburg. A couple of blocks off the kitsch-glutted main drag, this is a cafe, but a big one, that has been around for 40 years and at lunchtime is packed with locals. The steak is “country-fried” on the menu, but that’s because it was a “country cafe” in a previous life and the signature dish’s name stuck. Don’t fret; the chicken-fried, like Andy’s, is the genuine article.
– Broken Spoke, Austin. It is a restaurant in front, a bar in the middle, a little museum on the side (lots of cool junk, including one of LBJ’s hats and a chicken-fried steak plate autographed by singer Randy Travis) and a no-place-but-Texas dance hall in back. There cannot be a better chicken-fried steak on the planet nor a better place to eat one.
– Hill Country Cupboard, Johnson City. Billboards say it has the “World’s Best Chicken-Fried Steak.” It also says “Over 36 served.” The second part, though undoubtedly true, is meant as a joke; the first part got me in the door. Not great but pretty good, and the meat’s tenderness would bring me back. The secret? Explained Monica, the waitress: “It’s just beat real good.”
– Lost Maples Cafe, Utopia. A little spot in a little Hill Country town too small to make any but the biggest road maps. At least 90 percent of the people who find Utopia took a wrong turn at Bandera; the rest probably came looking for the Lost Maples Cafe. The search is worth it. Said Linda, who served me my chicken-fried, on why only Texans make them this good: “Because nobody else knows how.”
– O.S.T. Cafe, Bandera. The old bar doesn’t have chairs or stools; it has saddles. If you drink (or eat) at the bar, you’re staring into the nostrils of a dead elk. In short, the joint looks terrific-and the back room is named for John Wayne. “I’d tell you where he sat,” said the cashier, “but I’d be lying.” Its chicken-fried steak is called The Duke. The Duke would not have been pleased. It’s from a formed and frozen patty and chews like it. “We’re really better known for our Mexican food,” the cashier said.
– Threadgill’s, Austin. Janis Joplin hung out at the original location, once a Gulf gas station. You can still see what it was, but it’s been slicked up so much that the difference between the original on North Lamar and its much newer downtown location isn’t all that much. And neither, despite a mound of clippings, was my chicken-fried steak. A chef familiar with the product called it “cafeteria food”: “I believe in seasoning.”
Understand, there’s no such thing as a truly bad chicken-fried steak, but there are essentials to doing it just right.
The steak must be intact beefsteak, not chopped beef or soy-protein-laced hybrid, and fresh, never frozen. Round steak is the popular choice.
“Ours is hand-cut,” said Don Wise, owner of Andy’s, a former butcher who cuts his own. “That makes a difference.”
It must be pounded (sometimes with a vengeance) into submission, or carefully tenderized. This is old-time, humble home cooking-its creator, folklore to the contrary, is lost in history-and old-time, humble home cooking means making tough things edible.
Now we go to the Broken Spoke’s Annetta White.
“We do what they call a double-dip,” she said. “Our flour is mixed with a cracker meal. This keeps the flour from matting too badly. Salt and pepper’s all mixed in there.
“So you put your meat in there. Then you dip it in your egg and buttermilk-like six eggs to a gallon of buttermilk. Then you go back to your flour mixture.”
Then it’s ready to fry.
“A true chicken-fried steak would be fried in a skillet,” Wise said.
“An iron skillet keeps the oil hot,” agreed a manager of a Fredericksburg motel who obviously knew her stuff (and, to prove it, had sent me to Andy’s).
But busy places like Andy’s and the Broken Spoke, which may hand-bread hundreds of the things every mealtime, have to deep-fry. Only Momma would know the difference.
It must be served hot and right now. Crunch is essential. Also, the white cream gravy, when it cools, clots (which it undoubtedly does in your body as soon as it senses an artery, but you won’t see that, so don’t worry about it); hot steak helps keep the gravy molten.
The gravy is simple, but the steak wouldn’t be real without it.
“Gravy and chicken-fried steak is like Bob Wills and western swing country music,” said James M. White, who built the Spoke in 1964 and runs it with his wife, Annetta.
Wills, by the way, played the Broken Spoke three times in the late 1960s. George Strait got his start there, playing for $400 a night. It’s that kind of place.
“We’re the home of the best chicken-fried steak in town,” White said. “We ain’t got no Perrier water or hangin’ fern baskets, but we got cold beer and good whiskey and good-lookin’ girls to dance with.”
Back to gravy.
“The main thing with Southern white gravy is, if I was doing it at home, I’d use my meat drippings,” said Annetta White. “But at the Spoke, we use our grease that we fry our cutlets in.”
She makes it twice a day, in 3-gallon batches, which would require a lot of drippings. Drippings or grease
“You put your flour and your salt and your pepper in there, and you kind of brown it, so that your flour cooks. Then we put in whole milk. We just cook that until it thickens.”
A puddle of that thick gravy goes on the steak, a little more on the potatoes, maybe a little more on the side for dipping, and there it is. (And yes, everyone knows this isn’t broccoli with a spritz of lemon juice.)
“You know what I tell people? `It’s OK. You can’t eat ’em every day, but walk an extra mile,’ ” said Annetta White. “Everybody’s got to enjoy food once in a while.”
Heaven? That’s chicken-fried steak.
With a big ol’ Texas smile.
CHICKEN-FRIED STEAK
Preparation time: 35 minutes
Cooking time: 18 minutes
Yield: 4 servings
Adapted from “Spirit Of The West,” by Beverly Cox and
Martin Jacobs.
Steaks:
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
1large egg, beaten with
2 tablespoons water
3/4 cup buttermilk baking mix, such as Bisquick
4 pieces bottom or top round steak (about 2 pounds), pounded thin to tenderize
1/3 cup vegetable oil, plus more as needed
Gravy:
2 tablespoons meat drippings, bacon drippings or lard
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 can (12 ounces) evaporated milk
1/2 cup water
1/2 teaspoon salt, or more to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
1. Stir together flour, salt and pepper to taste in shallow pan or plate. Place egg mixture in another shallow pan. Place baking mix in third shallow pan. Coat steaks in flour mixture; dip in egg-water mixture. Coat with baking mix.
2. Heat oil in large, non-stick skillet over medium-high heat until a sprinkle of water sizzles. Add steaks, in batches, until golden brown and cooked through, 4 to 5 minutes per side, adding more oil if needed. Remove from pan; keep warm. Keep meat drippings in pan.
3. For gravy, heat drippings over medium heat. Add flour. Cook, stirring constantly, until flour turns golden, 2 to 3 minutes. Add milk and water. Cook, stirring constantly, until smooth and thickened, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Serve gravy with steaks.
Nutritional information per serving:
Calories ………… 790 Saturated fat … 12 g Fat ……….. 40 g
% calories from fat .. 46 Cholesterol … 210 mg Sodium …. 1,120 mg
Carbohydrates …… 40 g Protein ……… 65 g Fiber ………. 1 g
Other Southwest specialties
Chimichangas, enchiladas, posole, huevos rancheros, green chili
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SERIES SCHEDULE
Gulf: Key lime pie
Southeast: Carolina barbecue
Mid-Atlantic: Shoofly pie
Mountain and Pacific: Cobb salad
Southwest: Indian fry bread
Southwest: Chicken-fried steak
UPCOMING
Gulf: Oyster poor-boys
Midwest and central: Persimmon pudding
New England: Clam chowder
Mountain and Pacific: Baked salmon
