A Family Feast for the Fourth
June 30th, 2009When I was a little kid, fireworks bursting high in the star-filled night sky were the most thrilling part of Independence Day. Their brilliant, ever-exploding colors punctuated by deafening booms and the cheering crowd sent me soaring.
As an adult, I still thrill the fireworks, but my greatest joy comes from sharing traditions I’ve built with my family over the years. It all begins on the morning of the Fourth with our very own home-town parade, complete with floats, decorated cars, flag-waving kids, and a profusion of outrageous costumes. Personally, I’m attached to a funky old hat and a pair of sparkly, dangling red star earrings that pinch my ears and make me glad I only wear them once a year. After the last marchers pass by, we eagerly turn our attention to giant picnic baskets filled with homemade fried chicken and all the fixings—made the day before so that I can join in the fun.
With a large, hungry group like mine the key to a no-stress holiday meal is good planning and making as much as possible in advance. Chicken marinated in buttermilk is the traditional star of our Independence Day menu. Add to that an old fashioned picnic-style potato salad with hard-cooked eggs and tarragon, creamy slaw, fluffy, mile-high buttermilk biscuits and my favorite Guinness chocolate cake, and you have the perfect summer celebration meal. Everything is packed in plastic with ice for easy transporting.
Before you tell me that you can’t make fried chicken and would prefer to grab a tub of it at the local fast food place, know that as a novice cook, I could not fry it to save my life. It was dreadful stuff: greasy, overcooked—dark with the breading falling off. I finally got fed up and positively refused to do it ever again. But a few buckets of fast-food cluckers later, I did a little research and discovered that you could marinate the chicken for moistness, fry till golden and then finish it off in the oven. Amazing—what a difference. Now it’s one of my specialties. So give it a try and know the pleasures of this well-loved family favorite.
When we’ve licked the last of the picnic from our fingers and night begins to fall, I bundle up and grab the last standing celebrators and head to the Marin Headlands. There on a clear night one marvels at the beauty of the fog gently blowing through the Gate. Boom! The spectacular show begins as the fireworks soar and burst over San Francisco Bay. It reminds me of what a beautiful place we live in, and how fortunate I am to have great family and friends to share it. Oh, look at that brilliant red, white and blue beauty going off now. A reminder to be thankful for the freedom we often take for granted. Happy Fourth of July!
Get printable copies of my recipes and illustrated, step-by-step how-to’s for your convenience.
Southern Fried Chicken with Gravy
Chocolate Guinness Cupcakes with Chocolate-Cinnamon Frosting
Barbara Adams Blog also appears on the SFGate.

















1. Place the watermelon on its side and slice away the top and the bottom.
2. Stand the melon upright and halve it from top to bottom. Depending on how large the watermelon is, you may find it easier to complete one side first and then the other.
3. Cut each half into equal lengthwise sections.
4. Run the knife between the rind and the flesh from end to end.
5. Slice downward to the rind in equal segments, forming slices of your desired thickness.
6. Continue cutting if needed to produce chunks or bite-sized pieces.

In the kitchen, Kamla collected our ingredients—a tub of atta flour (”atta” is the Hindi word for high protein durum wheat, similar to that used in pasta), salt and a pitcher of water that she placed on the marble countertop. Speaking Hindi, she motioned me to scoop about two cups of atta and some salt into the pan. Kamla poured just enough water into the mixture to start forming the dough. I thought it a bit dry, so she sprinkled some more water over the top and showed me how to work the mixture effectively using just one hand. Once I achieved a “kneadable” consistency, Kamla dusted a bit of flour onto the counter and had me knead the dough for several minutes until smooth. She placed it back in the pan and covered it to rest for 20–30 minutes.
Kamla broke off two pieces of dough approximately 1 ¾ inches in diameter and handed me one. She rolled her dough between the palms of her hands until smooth, then flattened it slightly into a perfect fat circle. Finally, she dipped the dough in atta to prevent stickiness. I followed her lead and was soon ready for the next step—rolling the dough flat.








Later at home I told my host and great friend, Leela Manilal, about my afternoon adventure. She told me there was very good street food just blocks away from her home in Vasant Vihar. In the coming days we often headed there in the early evening for plates of fresh chaat. I never tired of watching the cooks prepare orders in their huge outdoor tavas (cooking pots much like a wok). It was especially satisfying to watch them fry a dozen samosas, then bring the fresh goodies home to the family for tea time.










