Have you ever marinated chicken in buttermilk?

Have you ever even used buttermilk? Except in buttermilk biscuits?

My mother tells me my great-grandfather drank the stuff, but I never had much use for it until I came across a recipe one day a few years ago for buttermilk pecan crusted chicken. When you marinate chicken in buttermilk, for even an hour, the chicken will be the most tender, juiciest chicken you've ever had. I'm not kidding.

Real old-fashioned buttermilk is the liquid left behind when milk is churned into butter. These days, most buttermilk you'll find in grocery stores is cultured. When used as a marinade, the enzymes, acids and calcium in buttermilk break down the proteins in chicken and other meats, thus tenderizing them.

Every time I buy a quart of buttermilk, I end up pouring half down the drain a month later. That's because I only use it when I get a hankering for buttermilk biscuits or pecan crusted chicken.

But here's the good news: You can make your own. Of course, it's not real buttermilk, but it works perfectly well as a substitute. And you can make it by the cup: 1 cup whole milk and a tablespoon of vinegar or lemon juice. Stir and let sit for 5 to 10 minutes. It won't be as thick as buttermilk, but don't sweat it. (If you use a lowfat milk, use a little more vinegar or lemon juice.)

So back to the pecan crusted chicken. With the combination of the buttermilk, and the crushed pecans and panko you'll be coating the chicken with, not to mention the olive oil and/or butter you'll be pan-frying it in, it's not the healthiest, or least fattening dish in the world, but if you serve it with some steamed broccoli, it will balance the scales. So to speak.

Not really. But the broccoli might make you feel better about yourself. Unless you also have some pasta with pesto and fresh grated Parmesan on the side. And a couple glasses of a cold, buttery Chardonnay. And then some chocolate cake with whipped cream for dessert.

Hungry yet?

Anyway, I pound the boneless chicken breast, in a plastic bag, with a mallet to thin it out a little and tenderize it, then let it marinate in buttermilk, or fake buttermilk, for an hour of so. You can marinate it for a few hours and some say overnight, but I once let it sit for a day. Big mistake. Chicken can be too tender.

Meanwhile, crush up some pecans — I use the same mallet I used on the chicken — in another plastic bag. It keeps them from flying all over the kitchen. Then throw in some panko or breadcrumbs — maybe a half and half mixture — and some salt to taste. I use too much, because I love salt. Especially pink salt.

Coat the buttermilk-marinated chicken with the pecan mixture. I'm not sure why recipes usually specify how to coat something with something, because it's pretty obvious. But I'll tell you anyway, just in case. Dump the pecan mixture onto a plate or other flat surface. Place the chicken breasts, gently, upon the pecan mixture. Pat gently. Then turn the chicken over and repeat. OK?

Pan fry the coated chicken in some olive oil, coconut oil, canola oil or a combination of one and some butter. On medium heat.

You’re not going to believe how good it is! Don't forget the steamed broccoli to up the health level of the meal. In case you don't like broccoli, do this: Peel the stems some. Steam in an inch or less of water for 3 minutes. Strain. Drizzle with olive oil. Sprinkle on some garlic powder and pink salt. Voila! You will now love broccoli.

You can have some kind of pasta with it too, but with the pecan and panko coating, you don't really need one. But far be it for me to encourage you to eat light.

And do not forget the wine. White or red. I am not a wine snob.

Hey I just thought of something! Pecan crusted chicken and buttermilk biscuits! Forget about the broccoli. Just skip the dessert. You won't even need it.

I’m not a chef. I lay no claim to being an authority on food or cooking. I’m a good cook, and a lover of good food. And I know how to spell and put a sentence together. This column is simply meant to be fun, and hopefully inspiring. So to anyone reading this whose hackles are raised because you know more about the subject of food than I, relax. I believe you.