»Literally.

The New York Times ran a tidy little article on deep-frying, replete with recipies.

December 15, 2004
THE MINIMALIST

Hot, Sizzling Temptations, Freshly Fried at Your Stove
By MARK BITTMAN

THE cooking method people fear most is the one they love most: frying.

It does everything you want cooking to do. It makes food crisp, tender, gorgeous and golden. The combination of moistness and crunchiness when you bathe fish in hot oil is incomparable, and vegetables are never more appealing than when they're fried with a light batter.

Grilling is fun, and appeals to our primitive side; it's the essence of summer. Frying, on the other hand, is civilized, delicate and more like a winter sport.

Sadly, we've been trained to deny our love, even become ashamed of it, because frying is supposed to be unhealthy. And, the naysayers contend, it's a pain, it's expensive, and it's messy.

Hogwash. Try it once, and you'll be hooked. And on your second try you will come pretty close to mastering the art of frying. You won't need an "automatic" deep fryer (which is far more trouble than it's worth) or other fancy equipment. Even a thermometer isn't essential (though it is undeniably convenient).

As a nation we eat fried food constantly, but almost always in restaurants, where it's least likely to be done well, with old oil, sloppy timing and less-than-ideal ingredients.

Frying lends itself to home cooking. Almost all fried food is best about a minute after it is removed from the bubbling oil. That is when it cools off enough so that its surface hardens a bit, before the interior moisture can begin to soften it again and after the danger of scorching the palate has passed.

At home, with friends who appreciate both the effort and the results, this same process is a joy. Among the favorite meals of my life are those that have begun with a few people gathered in the kitchen while I have tended my little pot of bubbling oil and pulled out a few treasured morsels at a time, transferring them to a paper-towel-lined bowl and offering them within a few minutes.

Frying puts food in contact with liquid fat or oil (which conduct heat better than air) at relatively high temperatures: roughly 350 degrees, as opposed to the more gentle 212 degrees of boiling water. The hot oil quickly drives out moisture (that is what causes the bubbles you see in hot oil), while browning the food evenly. Ideally, the results are the crisp exterior and moist, steamy, tender interior we all crave.

Most food (like fish, for example) is simply too moist to brown evenly on its own, or will burn before it browns and becomes crisp. (Think of broccoli.) That's why we use coatings on many fried foods, and these can range from a simple dusting of flour or cornmeal, both of which are reliable, easy, light, and good, to a full-fledged pancakelike batter, which can even be fried on its own, in the form of fritters, doughnuts or fried dough.

You can fry almost anything: dough or batter, thin slices or florets of vegetables, pieces of meat, wings of chicken and chops of lamb, chunks of banana, leaves of kale or spinach, sprigs of parsley, even ice cream.

I'm offering a range of my favorites: Onion rings tossed with flour, which I especially like when fried in olive oil (not everything takes to olive oil, but some things work perfectly); the onions themselves become limp and sweet, and the flour provides a light crunch. This is a technique that can be used with most vegetables and fish.

Fish is also great when treated with a thick, floury batter, but I like this best when it's done as it is in India, with a spicy coating and seasoned batter; otherwise it seems a wasted opportunity to add flavor.

The doughnut, beignet, fritter, zeppole and so on are all forms of fried dough, with or without other flavorings incorporated. I like a good, plain doughnut as much as the next man, but I like them even more when they're done in intriguing fashion, as are the sweet potato fritters here.

Finally, there's a technique associated with Japan, and found in one of the most common, diner-style dishes there: tonkatsu. It is made by dipping a piece of pork or other meat into flour, egg and bread crumbs before frying, which gives fabulously crunchy results.

These recipes offer a simple frying primer, with the essential techniques for coating (or, in the case of the fritters, creating) food before crisping it in a couple of inches of oil. Few things are as straightforward.

But, you'll ask — everyone does — doesn't the food absorb a lot of oil as it's cooking? For the answer, I turned to Harold McGee, author of "On Food and Cooking" the second edition of which was just published by Scribner.

Clearly some fat is absorbed by fried foods, but only about as much as that absorbed in sautéing or stir-frying, Mr. McGee said.

"The bigger the surface area compared to the volume, the more oil you end up with," Mr. McGee said. "A chip is all surface, which is why it's so wonderful, but it can wind up being 35 percent oil." Most fried foods have much less than that.

Cost may be a concern because of the sheer quantity of oil used. In most cases you will fry in about a quart of oil. The least expensive oils — corn, canola and soy — can cost as little as a couple of dollars a quart (or even less; you can find them for $4 a gallon), more or less eliminating this as a major concern.

Unfortunately I cannot recommend canola or soy oil for frying, or much of anything else; they have off flavors and odors that are compounded by heat. Corn is better; I don't object to its odor when heated, although some people do.

Generally the best oil for frying — and naturally the most expensive — is grapeseed. It has a neutral flavor and lovely, light aroma. It's becoming more widely available and the price is coming down rapidly. Still, it will probably cost at least $4 a quart.

Peanut and olive oils are strong-flavored, but taste good. I especially like to fry lightly coated vegetables with olive oil, which has a relatively low smoke point, about 400 degrees, still well above the temperatures you should be using for frying.

To minimize the quantity of oil, the heating time and spatter, I usually use a standard six-quart saucepan and add an inch or two of oil, leaving at least three or four inches of pan wall to guard against spattering. As long as you're not frying squid or some other insanely moisture-laden ingredient (definitely not for beginners), the spattering should be well within reason.

As for disposal, if you allow the oil to cool, you can then pour it through a funnel into an empty bottle, cap or cork it, and dispose of it easily. If you are exceptionally careful about frying, never allowing the oil to smoke, carefully straining out all solids, and making sure to fry less-strong flavored foods (dough, for example) before stronger flavored ones (like fish), you can refrigerate and reuse the oil.

With braising and roasting, frying is one of the true joys of winter. The results make people happy and, once you get the hang of it, you'll do it with no fear.

Copyright 2004 The New York Times Company