Gluten-Free Chicken Nuggets

I’m going to preface this post by saying this is not the story I intended to share. I had a whole other post which may or may not see the light of day prepared. But then the world went topsy turvy and nothing light and fun and airy seemed right. So it might be a little weird that this post is heavy and about racism and hatred and then *POOF* there’s a recipe, but, honestly, it was the only way I could do this. 

So here goes…

I am a white woman. I was neither rich nor poor growing up. I was not raised racist yet I was raised in a bubble–with very little diversity in my early years. This was not intentional on my parents’ behalf. They, like most people, moved to have access to better schools, to more space, to a safer world for their children.

This was a privilege. Right?

I married a white man. We have white children. We aren’t racist. We love everyone. We preach diversity and acceptance to our children.

Yet still, these past few weeks have confronted every bias we hold, put our convictions to the test and brought to the light some big-time privileges and fears and all of the dark undercurrent that comes with being a white person in America. 

Let me explain. 

Connor has this friend, Roman. He is one of my favorite kids ever. He’s funny and he’s witty and he’s just a tried and true friend to my boy, always including him, always willing to be there and hang out and just be, well, buddies. And we love him. It doesn’t hurt at all that we love his family. His mom, Kaanji, has become one of my closest friends over these years. We’ve laughed together and cried together and shared life events like birthdays and Christmases and wine nights and all the things. 

She’s also, in case I didn’t mention it, black.

That shouldn’t matter, right? We’re all color-blind and everyone is the same and blah, blah, blah. But it does matter. In fact, it matters very much.

Because Kaanji is brilliant and she’s compassionate and she’s full of grace and life experience and wisdom. She’s also, which is lucky for me, an incredibly patient teacher. So throughout our friendship, she has taken the time to answer those hard to ask questions about race that us white people are sorta kinda afraid to broach. She has asked me very hard questions as well, forcing me to see things differently and understand, on a much deeper level, the full scope of my white privilege. She’s, in essence, through these conversations and questions and gentle reminders about the differences in our life stories and experiences cracked my heart open and allowed me to get little glimpses into her world, the world of a black person in America. And it has changed my heart in ways I can’t even begin to explain.

So when news of George Floyd’s death started to circulate and the horror of watching a man beg for his life as someone who has sworn to serve and protect him kneeled on his neck UNTIL HE DIED began to sink in, I told her I was all in. I was by her side. We cried about it. We talked about it.

And then a protest march was formed. In my very own personal bubble of a town. I saw the flyer the night before. A little knot formed in my stomach. I was scared. I bargained with God, begging him not to ask this of me. Anything, really, but this. I’m all there in my support. Just not this. Because it’s scary.

I knew then, of course, that I would be at that march. I just maybe wasn’t ready to know it know it. Not yet, anyway. I was too scared. 

I was scared because the news was filled with images of protests that were ending in riots and looting. I was scared because, well, what if? What if my whiteness makes me a target? What if I can’t protect my son who wants to walk next to his friend to support him? What if?

Y’all…my privilege was showing.

I’m embarrassed to admit those thoughts, but they were in the pit of my stomach and on repeat in my mind anyway. They are as much a part of this story as anything else. They were mine and they were very, very human. 

Yet it didn’t escape me then nor does it now that the very thing I wanted to do, protect my loved ones, is the very reason we were marching. We were marching because black mothers and black fathers love their children with the exact same protective ferocity that I love mine. There is no difference, parental love is pretty unique like that, yet they can’t protect their babies. Not like I can.

Black parents have to tell their children that they can’t walk around with their hood up, especially in a white neighborhood. Black parents have to have conversations about how to “act” (like what does that even mean, really) when in the presence of the police because they can’t guarantee that they only reason their child will be confronted by one is that they actively broke the law. Current events have shown us that they have to warn them about where to jog, where to sleep and how to NOT fight back because their life might depend on it.

And when Kaanji said to me, through tears and sobs, “I ask you to march because I know my black son will be safer if he is surrounded by his white friends,” every last shred of fear had to go. My fears about protecting my children are nothing, let me repeat NOTHING, in the face of this truth. NOTHING.

So we marched. 

I will not, for one second, tell you that we weren’t afraid. There were a lot of unknowns. But I can tell you that all of us, there were four moms and four boys (plus one dad) marching together, knew that faith had to win over fear. It had to. Are we really with you in your fight if we’re just giving lip service and afraid to put our money where our mouth is? Are we going to let the haters and the racists and the bigots and those who want to squelch our American right to peacefully protest with fear win? We were scared.  But we all marched together anyway. Because this world needs to do better for Black lives. It MUST. 

But because Kaanji is one incredible woman, she didn’t stop there. I’m not sure I’ve ever witnessed someone with such passion put it into action so fast. This God-given gift she has of sharing wisdom and answering questions with grace, she knew it needed to expand beyond our little backyard patio chats over wine. She knew that the most important place to have these conversations to ensure that the future is better for our children is right inside our homes, with our children at nighttime and dinnertime, and every chance we can find in between. It’s no longer ok to avoid the conversation because we’re white and we “don’t see color” and we don’t know what to say. And if she can help educate other parents as she did me, then she was all in.

So EMBRACE Action was formed in a matter of days. A not for profit organization armed with resources, knowledge, and maybe, most importantly, the mission to help parents foster these conversations in our own homes, where they need to be happening. Her goal is not to give you a script and tell you exactly what to say. Her goal is to help educate white parents with the information and the verbiage (trust me, you don’t really know the definition of some of these words being thrown around on social media right now. At least I didn’t) to have the conversation with confidence and honesty. There will be workshops and small groups and book studies and podcasts. Lots of things.

I will be sharing more about EMBRACE in the next few days (as always, follow me on social for updates) but if you want to help Kaanji reach her funding goal to get the NP set up, please consider donating to her GoFundMe. 

Y’all, we need to do better. For our kids. For ourselves. For every single black person who has come before us or will come behind. It’s on us to make this better. And together, we can.

Gluten-Free Chicken Nuggets

Once again I apologize again for how weird it is to pop a recipe at the end of this heavy talk. I know it’s my norm to tell a story and then share a recipe (and for all of you haters out there about how I do this, there’s a JUMP TO RECIPE button on the top for a reason so get over yourself) but this seems even a bit much for me. But, nonetheless, it’s how I roll and this recipe has been on my schedule to share today for ages so it is what it is.

These nuggets, though, they’re universal. Touted by Connor as “his absolute favorite thing I’ve ever made” I won’t go so far as to say they rival Chick Fil A, I’m just gonna say they’re close. Meaning, they’re about as close as I’ll ever get at home and I’m ok with that. 

It’s true that they’re gluten-free. I have an optional tablespoon of flour in them which adds a slightly crisper crust on the nugget but it’s so incredibly close without that you miss nothing if you omit it. These were the result of years of trial and error. When the kids were little I swear I tried about 150 different nugget recipes. Some were “eh” and some were downright awful but I never quite got to good or even great until I ditched the flour and breading and went straight for the cornstarch. Yes, I know it’s a bit odd. No, I don’t care because they’re dang good.

There are a few tricks to this recipe. First of all, it’s important to shake off the excess coating before you drop them in the oil. I like to use a mesh strainer but have also just given them a good shake before throwing them in. It’s also important not to overcrowd the pan. I typically work in two batches when I’m making 2 pounds of nuggets (seems like a lot of chicken but my kids devour these and there are never leftovers). This way I’m not steaming my nuggets but rather getting a good crust and gently frying. And finally, please for the love of all that is holy sprinkle that salt on those hot nuggets the literal moment they hit the paper-towel-lined plate. Trust me. It makes a difference.

If your family is anything like ours, these will become a regular in rotation at your house. They’re for sure a toolbox recipe and one I know you will ALL love.

Peace, love and equality,

Meg 

Gluten-Free Chicken Nuggets

June 5, 2020

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By: Meaghan Dawson

Ingredients

• 1/3 cup cornstarch
• 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic salt
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• dash of fresh cracked pepper
• 1 tablespoon flour (OPTIONAL if GF)
• 2 pounds chicken breast cut into nugget size
• vegetable oil
• salt to taste

Directions

• Step 1 In a medium bowl, combine corn starch, spices, and flour.
• Step 2 Stir gently with a fork.
• Step 3 Add chicken and toss to coat, making sure there is a dusting on all sides of each piece.
• Step 4 Transfer chicken to a mesh strainer to get rid of the excess flour. Set aside.
• Step 5 In a large skillet, add enough vegetable oil to coat the bottom of the pan. Heat until a drop of water sizzles in the pan.
• Step 6 Working in batches, add chicken pieces, giving a quick shake before dropping in.
• Step 7 Try to make sure the pieces are in a single layer and NOT touching each other.
• Step 8 Once cooked through and brown remove with a slotted spoon and place on a paper-towel-lined plate.
• Step 9 IMMEDIATELY sprinkle with salt.
• Step 10 Repeat in batches until done.

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