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Crispy Garlic Chicken Strips with Sweet Chilli Mayo — The Crunch That Carried Us Through

Hundred-degree week in Detroit. The plant was miserable — even with the industrial fans and the cooling stations, the floor felt like working inside a slow cooker. Two guys on my team went home early with heat exhaustion. Jerome and I stayed because team leaders do not leave, and because there is a kind of stubborn pride in enduring what others cannot. My father endured worse. His father endured worse. The Carter men stand in the heat and keep their hands moving. Aiden does not care about heat. He is sixteen months old and made of motion. Brianna took him to the splash pad at Rouge Park on Wednesday, and she sent me pictures of him standing in the water jets, mouth open, arms out, looking like a tiny prophet receiving a blessing. I saved every photo. The folder on my phone is getting ridiculous. Money is tight this month. Brianna's hair clients are inconsistent — some weeks she does three heads, some weeks zero — and my overtime has been cut because they are slowing production for the Fourth of July shutdown. We are not broke. We are the next thing over from broke, which is a specific kind of anxiety where you have enough for everything you need and nothing you want, and you live in constant awareness that one unexpected expense — a car repair, a medical bill, a broken appliance — could push you over the edge. Welcome to the American middle class, which in Detroit is the same as the working class, which is the same as everyone I know. Brianna and I had a long talk on Thursday night. Not a fight — a talk. She said she feels stuck. She said she loves Aiden but she did not expect motherhood to be this isolating. She said she watches her friends on social media living lives that look bigger than hers. I told her I understood, because I do — I also had a bigger life planned. I was going to play college basketball. I was going to be someone. Instead I am a factory worker with a bad knee and a beautiful son and a wife who deserves more than I can give her. We held hands on the couch and watched TV and did not solve anything, but we acknowledged the weight, and sometimes that is what you can do. Sunday dinner: Mama made catfish. Fried catfish with tartar sauce, coleslaw, and hush puppies. The catfish is cornmeal-crusted — she uses fine-ground yellow cornmeal mixed with cajun seasoning and black pepper — and fried in vegetable oil until the coating is golden and crispy and the fish inside is white and flaky. Hush puppies are cornmeal batter with onion and jalapeno, dropped into the same oil and fried until they float. The coleslaw is Mama's recipe: shredded cabbage and carrot with mayo, apple cider vinegar, sugar, and celery seed. It is the kind of meal that has been feeding Black families in the Midwest for generations, brought up from the South and adapted to what was available and affordable. I ate until I could not move. This is the appropriate response to Mama's catfish.

Mama’s fried catfish reminded me that the best food doesn’t ask anything of you—it just delivers, hot and golden and exactly what you needed without knowing you needed it. I can’t always get to her kitchen, but when the week has wrung us out the way this one did, Brianna and I need that same energy at our own table: something crispy, something built with care, something that makes Aiden reach for more. These Crispy Garlic Chicken Strips with Sweet Chilli Mayo carry that same spirit—a crunchy, satisfying hit of comfort that doesn’t require much money or much time, just good hands and a hot pan.

Crispy Garlic Chicken Strips with Sweet Chilli Mayo

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch strips
  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 2 large eggs, beaten
  • 1 1/2 cups panko breadcrumbs
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder
  • 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • Vegetable oil, for frying (about 2 cups)
  • Sweet Chilli Mayo:
  • 1/2 cup mayonnaise
  • 3 tablespoons sweet chilli sauce
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon fresh lime juice

Instructions

  1. Make the sauce. Whisk together mayonnaise, sweet chilli sauce, minced garlic, and lime juice in a small bowl until smooth. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.
  2. Set up the breading station. Place flour in a shallow bowl. Beat eggs in a second shallow bowl. In a third bowl, combine panko breadcrumbs, garlic powder, smoked paprika, onion powder, salt, and black pepper and stir to mix evenly.
  3. Bread the chicken. Working one strip at a time, dredge each piece in flour and shake off the excess. Dip into the beaten egg, letting the excess drip off. Press firmly into the seasoned panko, turning to coat all sides. Set on a plate and repeat with remaining strips.
  4. Heat the oil. Pour vegetable oil into a large heavy skillet or Dutch oven to a depth of about 1 inch. Heat over medium-high heat until the oil reaches 350°F, or until a pinch of panko dropped in sizzles immediately.
  5. Fry the strips. Working in batches to avoid crowding, fry chicken strips for 3—4 minutes per side until deep golden brown and cooked through (internal temperature 165°F). Transfer to a wire rack or paper-towel-lined plate to drain.
  6. Serve. Arrange crispy garlic chicken strips on a platter and serve immediately with sweet chilli mayo alongside for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 520 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 610mg

DeShawn Carter
About the cook who shared this
DeShawn Carter
Week 14 of DeShawn’s 30-year story · Detroit, Michigan
DeShawn is a thirty-six-year-old single dad, auto plant worker, and a man who didn't learn to cook until his wife left and his five-year-old asked, "Daddy, can you cook something?" He called his mama, who came over with two bags of groceries and spent six months teaching him the basics. Now he's the dad at the cookout who brings the ribs, the guy at the plant whose leftover gumbo starts fights, and living proof that it's never too late to learn.

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