My entire life, I’ve been warned against boneless,
skinless anything—but especially boneless, skinless
chicken thighs. “Dry,” my mother once hissed, miming the
international signal for “I’m choking” exaggeratedly when we came
across them at a hotel buffet.
In my household, our chicken thighs had both bone and skin. We
coated them in olive oil, seasoned with salt, pepper, and lemon
juice, then baked them to crispy, juicy oblivion at a low temp. We
called the dish “Joan Chicken” (after a family friend who
introduced us to this prized method) and ate it for dinner about
once a week.
Source: FS – All – Food – News
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