Winter by the Sea

Oil for frying 3 cups water 3 teabags 1/4 cup sugar 3 lbs fryer chicken pieces 2 cups all purpose flour 1 tbsp garlic salt 3 tbsp lemon pepper seasoning, divided 1 tsp poultry seasoning 1 tsp pepper 1 tsp paprika 2 eggs, beaten 1 cup buttermilk lemons for garnish (optional)

Bring water to a boil. Stir in sugar. Add teabags and remove from heat. Allow tea to steep for 5 minutes. Discard teabags and allow tea to cool. Pour into large bowl and add chicken pieces. Allow to marinate in tea 4-6 hours or overnight, stirring and rearranging occasionally to ensure all pieces marinate properly.

Heat oil in fryer to 375º. Combine flour, garlic salt, 2 tbsp lemon pepper, poultry seasoning, pepper, and paprika in shallow dish. In separate dish, combine eggs, buttermilk, and 1 tbsp lemon pepper. Remove chicken pieces from marinade and roll in soup mixture, then dredge in flour mixture. Place pieces in fryer and cook for 10-15 minutes or until juices run clear and chicken is cooked through. Garnish with lemon slices if desired.

WINTER BY THE SEA

by Ellen E. Hyatt

So this is another way you return: as a warming memory of a winter’s night at an inn on the Carolina coast. We cannot predict what will stir up the past, can we? Or how long the image will last. Tonight, a silver ladle dipped in a party punch bowl ripples the surface in small waves, much like actual larger ones rushing in and rolling out until the sea becomes safely settled, soulful, smooth. Smooth as the free sky is for gazing.

Stars that night seemed purposely placed. Constellations ready for me and you to view. With care, we strolled the shore until finding drier sand, away from the tide line. There, we laid down blanket, feather pillows, and ourselves. Always prepared, you carried a map of the night sky and a tiny flashlight with a red filter. You said it helps eyes to get adjusted before searching the wonder above us. We were looking for a wide-open star cluster.

The stars felt familiar: depicted often in poems, in paintings, in folklore, and in Greek myths (ah . . . those never-ending tales to explain creation, resulting in nothing but jealous rages among gods). Within the cluster, we saw seven stars. You pointed them out as Ursa Major or Big Dipper, the ladle in the sky. Stars do appear as sweet surprise, like bits of memory and other fragile beauty. Once you warned me not to look too often or stay too long because it might all just turn into another Paradise lost.