For me, this recipe was a true test of the theory that anything can be good if you deep fry it. Okra is…like, an 11 out of 10 on the gross scale. Yes, please give me a vegetable that immediately begins to form gelatinous, mucousy strands the moment it touches liquid. Sounds fantastic. Soft, mushy seeds the size of popcorn kernels? Sign me up. I’ve been afraid to even try it in gumbo (one of its mainstays) because I’m so afraid of turning a giant pot of deliciousness into a snotty mess.
I’m pretty sure my CSA feels the same way I do about okra, because they keep sending it to me in quantities that only mean that they want very badly to get rid of it. The first two weeks I got it in my weekly box, I gave it away. The third week, I started to realize that they were playing some kind of StitchFix game with me (sign up eager subscriber; when hooked, send them cast-off products you can’t find any other way to get rid of). But I needed to overcome this I am bigger than okra. I am stronger than okra. I can defeat okra. Okra-dee, okra-da, life goes on, blah.
I asked around my Southern friends and got the same answer – fry it (sidenote: yes, I know I live in Virginia and that’s technically the South, but bless my heart, I’m a liberal vegetarian suburban DC-ite and I know next to nothing about Southern food). I really don’t love to fry things (although I love to eat fried things) – having a tiny kitchen with zero ventilation is generally a dealbreaker for, you know, bringing copious amounts of oil to high, smelly heat and then dropping splattery things in it. But every so often, you just need to break out the big guns and fire up that deep skillet. I knew this was the only way okra and I were going to make nice.
That theory I questioned? That anything, even gross things, will be delicious if deep-fried? I consider it proven. Sliced okra gets a (vegan, in this case) buttermilk bath, which WILL gross you out because that’s how you’re getting all the gross sliminess out, and you will be disgusted and want to throw the entire thing away – I implore you not to. I promise, if you turn your head away from that stringy nastiness and blindly dump it into the seasoned cornmeal breading, by the time it’s coated, you’ll be less horrified, and bonus! Your oil will be nice and hot. Once it’s fried up and you serve it with ranch dressing or some nice aioli if you’re fancy, you won’t even recognize this pop-in-your-mouth treat as something you were totally grossed out by just 15 minutes before.
- 8 pods raw okra
- 1 cup almond or other non-dairy milk
- 1 Tbsp white or apple cider vinegar
- ¾ cup all-purpose flour
- ¾ cup fine cornmeal
- 2 tsp paprika (I use smoked)
- 1 tsp garlic powder
- 1 tsp onion powder
- Salt & pepper to taste
- 1 cup vegetable oil
- Ranch dressing, or other dipping sauce
- Remove stems of okra. Slice crosswise into half-inch pieces.
- Combine almond milk and vinegar in a medium bowl and stir. Let sit for 5 minutes, until curdling. Add sliced okra and mix to thoroughly coat all pieces.
- While okra is soaking, combine flour, cornmeal, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, salt and pepper in another bowl and stir to combine.
- Pour vegetable oil into a heavy skillet. Heat to 375 F.
- While the oil is heating, drain the okra and add it to the cornmeal mixture. Shake or stir to coat thoroughly and evenly.
- When oil is heated, add the okra in batches and fry 2 minutes per side, until golden brown. Remove to a paper-towel lined plate to drain. Be sure to bring the oil back to 375 degrees between each batch.
- Serve warm with dipping sauce of choice.
Source: adapted from Taste of Home
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Haha I too am not a fan of okra! It’s okay in gumbo, but otherwise…no thank you. Of course, everything is better fried–awesome that you finally got to try it!:D
I’m afraid to ruin a pot of gumbo with it!