Get the Recipe Homemade Chick-Fil-A Sandwiches

More Fried Chicken Digging into the cluckin' awesome world of our favorite fried food.

We've been hearing an awful lot about Chick-Fil-A—the Atlanta-based fried chicken sandwich fast food chain—in the news recently, and it's not been about how awesome their chicken sandwiches are, which is somewhat unfortunate, because those sandwiches are awesome. But we'll get back to that in a moment.

Chick-Fil-A's got quite a bit in common with California burger chain In-N-Out burger. Both serve reasonably priced tasty food of a markedly better quality than your typical fast food establishment. Both harbor a cult-like following of zealots. Both hire and retain extremely upbeat and friendly staff—you can't help but feel just a little more gay after stepping into a Chick-Fil-A. And of course, both restaurants were started by families with extremely conservative Christian principles.

The difference is that while In-N-Out limits its proselytizing to inconspicuous bible verses referenced on the bottom of its cups, the higher-ups at Chick-Fil-A are a little more outspoken in their stance, actively speaking against equal marriage rights for homosexuals and donating millions of Chick-Fil-A dollars to organizations with strong anti-gay, anti-feminist, and anti-abortion histories.

I don't normally like to mix my food with my politics, but the thought of where my chicken sandwich dollars might be going is enough to leave a bad taste in my mouth, no matter how crispety-crunchety, spicy-sweet and salty that juicy chicken sandwich may be.

So in the interest of keeping my Chick-Fil-A consumption at a reasonable level, I did the only logical thing: figured out how to make them at home. Here's how it's done. And yes, you can even make 'em on a Sunday.

The Archetype

The classic Chick-Fil-A sandwich is a thing of simple beauty. A juicy, salty, crisply fried chicken breast. A soft, sweet, buttered and toasted bun. Two dill pickle chips. That's all there is to it.

What makes it great is the perfection of each of the elements. That crisp golden brown crust spiced just right with a perfect sweet-salty-savory-hot balance. The way it coats that breast underneath; a chicken breast that defies all we know about chicken. This is no dry, stringy, bland chicken bosom, this is a breast of unparalleled juiciness, with a dense, meaty texture and deeply seasoned flavor.

Bring all of the elements together, and you've got a sandwich that is nearly impossible to improve upon.

I began my quest for chicken sandwich perfection with the easiest elements: the bun and the pickles.

Bun and Pickles

With some of these reverse engineering project, getting the condiments and sauces just right are as much of a challenge as working on the main ingredient (see my In-N-Out clone recipe, for example). Not so with a Chick-Fil-A.

The bun is your typical hamburger-style bun. Soft and slightly sweet, with a fluffy, Wonderbread-like texture. It measures up at around 4 1/2-inches in diameter, which puts it right in the range of Arnold Hamburger Rolls. Toasted in a skillet in just a bit of melted butter, they're a perfect taste-alike to the real Chick-Fil-A buns.

As for the pickles, I tried out a few different brands of dill crinkle-cut chips. Heinz had the right flavor, the but chips were too small—I could've added a few extras, I suppose, but I feel like the two-pickle-per-Chick-Fil-A-sandwich rule is an unbreakable law. Instead, I turned to Vlasic Ovals Hamburger Dill Chips, which have a larger surface area and the same salty-vinegary-garlicky flavor.

Now, on to the hard part: the chicken.

Don't Forget Your Coat!

So what exactly goes into that uniquely flavorful Chick-Fil-A coating? It's obviously a standard breading procedure of some form or another—chicken dipped into a thick liquid followed by a dredging in seasoned flour before being deep-fried.

My normal course of action in a situation like this would be to pull off some high-level espionage, playing both sides of the game, perhaps wooing a particularly woo-able employee into a romantic tryst in an attempt to get her (or him!) talking about breading while we're bedding.

But alas, the higher-ups at Chick-Fil-A have obviously foreseen this potentially