Lemon-Pepper Wings

The summer is passing the way summers pass when you know something is ending — quickly, with the urgency of water going down a drain. August is close. Move-in is close. The last summer of sleeping in my own bed, in my own room, in the house my father rebuilt after the flood is almost over, and I am trying to be present to every remaining minute of it.

I spent three days this week cooking with MawMaw Shirley. Not Saturdays — I went Tuesday and Thursday too, because I want to learn everything she has left to teach me before I am on campus and the Saturdays become every-other-Saturdays and eventually the visits have to compete with study groups and exams and the hundred demands that college places on time. She taught me her chicken and dumplings this week — the Southern version, with the flat dumplings rolled from flour and lard and cut into strips, dropped into the broth at the last minute so they cook in the steam. "The dumplings should be lazy," she said. "They should not work hard. The broth does the work." I wrote it down. Everything she says goes in the notebook. The second notebook. The first one is full.

Mama has begun what I call the Departure Preparations — cleaning out my closet, sorting my clothes into "take to college" and "leave here" piles, labeling storage bins with the label maker she bought specifically for this purpose. She is processing my leaving the way she processes everything: through organization. If she can label it, she can manage it. I love her for this. I love that her response to grief — because it is a small grief, the leaving of a child who is only going fifteen minutes away — is to buy a label maker and alphabetize the storage bins.

I made chicken and dumplings for the family Friday night — MawMaw Shirley's recipe, my hands, our kitchen. Daddy ate it and said, "This tastes like Baker." He meant it tastes like MawMaw Shirley's house, which is the geography of flavor, the way a recipe carries place inside it. Baker is in the broth. MawMaw Shirley is in the dumplings. I am in the cooking. And when I make this in a dorm room — somehow, with whatever tools I have — Baker and MawMaw Shirley will be there too, because recipes are portable and love is a seasoning that survives any kitchen.

MawMaw Shirley’s flat dumplings are sacred — they belong to her kitchen, her cast iron, her hands — and I know I’ll need time before I can truly carry that recipe anywhere it deserves to go. But I leave for campus in weeks, and I still need chicken, and I still need something that feels like Saturday and home and the South. These lemon-pepper wings are what I make when I want that warmth on a shorter timeline — crispy and bright and deeply savory, the kind of thing that works in whatever kitchen I land in next. Daddy would approve. MawMaw Shirley might even nod.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 4

Ingredients

3 lbs chicken wings, split at joints, tips removed
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons lemon-pepper seasoning
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 tablespoon baking powder (for crispiness)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Zest of 1 large lemon
1 teaspoon extra lemon-pepper seasoning (for finishing)
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped (for garnish)

Instructions

Dry the wings. Pat chicken wings thoroughly dry with paper towels — this is the most important step for crispy skin. Place on a wire rack set over a baking sheet and let air-dry uncovered in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes, or up to overnight.
Preheat and season. Preheat oven to 425°F. In a large bowl, toss wings with olive oil, lemon-pepper seasoning, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, cayenne, and baking powder until evenly coated.
Arrange and bake. Return seasoned wings to the wire rack in a single layer. Bake for 25 minutes, then flip each wing and continue baking for another 18—20 minutes, until deeply golden and the skin is crackling-crisp.
Make the lemon butter finish. While wings bake, stir together the melted butter, fresh lemon juice, lemon zest, and the extra teaspoon of lemon-pepper seasoning in a large bowl.
Toss and coat. Remove wings from the oven and immediately transfer to the bowl with lemon butter. Toss well so every wing is glossed and fragrant.
Serve. Arrange on a platter, scatter chopped parsley over the top, and serve immediately with extra lemon wedges on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Lemon-Pepper Wings — Southern Flavor I’m Taking With Me