One has to concede that a fine piece of fried chicken has its own sort of rightness. There is no better comfort than to sink your teeth in and let the paprika crust shatter to get at the juiciness underneath.
This isn’t the type of thing you will be regretting afterward. It is golden and savory in an agreeable fashion. The buttermilk keeps the meat tender, while the flour on top sets into a proper mahogany rind you have to break through.
And don’t forget the paprika, which adds a touch of heat and some color. Not to mention the odd bit of breading that flakes off, those are the very best part of it.
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