2026 - 43 The Secret Wasn’t in a Recipe

MeMe, aka Elizabeth Moore Nolen, My Maternal Grandmother

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks
Week 43 of 2026
Prompt: Homemade

A recent group text among my maternal first cousins started with the suggestion that we should all get together and eat some fried chicken.

Fried chicken. Like MeMe used to fix.

But who knew how to fry chicken that way? Not me.

Paula said all she knew was that it involved a brown paper sack.

Peggy asked, “Honestly, do any of us have a large can of Crisco in our cabinet? Do they even sell Crisco anymore?”

I threw mine out years ago. It was rancid. All I ever used it for was chocolate chip cookies, and I don’t bake cookies anymore.

Paula replied, “No Crisco here. Strictly olive oil. Ma Sue would be ashamed of me. She was a die-hard Crisco fan. Unfortunately, most of her can sitting on her cabinet was her ‘used’ can.”

That was the end of the conversation until I started probing for more details.

I remembered that each of MeMe’s three daughters—Margaret (my mom), Betty (Peggy’s mom), and Sue (Robbin and Paula’s mom)—knew how to fry chicken MeMe’s way. But no one had a written recipe.

I remembered flour, salt, and pepper in a brown paper bag. Put the chicken in, close the bag, and shake. And yes, there was Crisco in a heavy skillet with a lid.

But what else?

I asked if anyone remembered anything more.

Paula: “Brown paper bag, lol, sounds perfect.”

Me: “Electric skillet or on the stove?”

Robbin: “Ma Sue always made hers in an electric skillet. I make mine in the electric skillet.”

Paula: “Yes, electric skillet.”

Aha! Someone does carry on the tradition!

Me: “So Robbin carries on the tradition. Tell me how you make it!”

Robbin: “Just like the above including the paper bag. I get my Crisco hot at first so when you put chicken in you get a crispy coating, then turn it down with the lid on til tender, turn up, brown little more and wala.”

Me: “Nothing on the chicken before you flour it? Does the Crisco completely cover the chicken or just enough to crisp it and then turn it?”

Robbin: “Just enough to crisp it and turn it. Put spices in flour sack and shake.”

Me: “Paula and Peggy, have you made it?”

Paula: “Not since my kids were little. I don’t have an electric skillet anymore but I wish I did. My kids loved the drumsticks when I did make it. But what Robbin said, exactly how I did it.”

So now two sisters had admitted to knowing how to fry chicken the way their mother, Ma Sue, had taught them. And Ma Sue had learned from MeMe.

But I still had questions.

Me: “Do you remember if MeMe used an electric skillet?”

Paula: “Good question. Possibly a cast iron skillet.”

Robbin: “I think she did have an electric skillet and I’ve even seen her make it in a cast iron skillet.”

Paula: “Seems like she had an olive green electric skillet.”

Me: “Did you just rinse the chicken, pat dry, and then in the bag?”

Robbin: “Yes.”

Finally, Peggy weighed in.

Peggy: “I never made it. I can’t even stand to fry bacon in my house. Too messy. Sorry, I can’t really help but . . . I would say, put all purpose flour in a brown paper bag. Season with salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder and Lawry seasoning salt. (Betty put it on everything.) Put chicken pieces in and shake. Put in about an inch of really hot Crisco. Brown chicken and then turn the heat down, cover and cook. Sound right?

“Betty had olive green electric skillet but cast iron before that. Mom was a little touchy about the iron skillet because Denver took it in the divorce.”

Well, there’s a family detail I hadn’t expected to uncover in a discussion about fried chicken!

It took a lot of prompting to reveal the whole process, but in the end, we all had the same memories, even those of us who had never made it ourselves. Each generation had its own little variations, but one thing everyone remembered was that brown paper bag.

Maybe the secret wasn’t in a recipe after all. Maybe it was in that brown paper bag, filled with flour, salt, and pepper, shaken just the way MeMe taught her daughters, who taught theirs.

MeMe's fried chicken, recreated from family memories and a photograph of MeMe, with a little help from ChatGPT.