To reiterate the story about how this post came to be, during our last trip to the grocery store on Saturday, my son was upset because I wouldn’t buy the one brand of flavourless frozen slabs of “chicken fingers” that’s safe for him to eat (I get that they’re “all natural,” with clearly readable ingredients, and I appreciate that, but dang, y’all. You could at least season them).
I don’t know how to describe their flavour, but it’s somewhere between cardboard and the tears of broken dreams. Needless to say I hated paying like $1 per chicken finger, cause there weren’t many in that $11.99 box.
Anyway, I told my son I would make him some. My son has always been one of the first people out there to tell me that he thinks I’m an amazing superwoman who can make anything(Ferrero Canada, I would totally appreciate any insight you have to give on making a dairy-free/nut free Kinder Egg, which is still on his “Mommy-make-list,” by the way). I don’t know whether he truly in doubt or was just laying on the cussedness cause I told him no, but he insisted that I couldn’t make chicken fingers and actually bet his entire piggy bank against me.
Honey, mommy grew up in the Southern U.S. Knowing how to make fried chicken and all its subsidiaries, like chicken fingers, is practically the law. In other words…
Find the recipe over at FoodRetro.com!