Name: Easy Extra Crispy Irish Oven-Fried Chicken Thighs Recipe Guide
Prep time: 20 min
Cook time: 40 min
Total time: 1 h
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Irish
Ingredients: 8 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs; 1 cup buttermilk; 2 cups panko breadcrumbs; 1 cup all-purpose flour; 2 teaspoons salt; 1 teaspoon black pepper; 1 teaspoon smoked paprika; ½ teaspoon garlic powder; ¼ cup melted butter; 1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley (optional for garnish)

Let Me Tell You About This Chicken (And the Time I Almost Burned My Socks)

Okay, so you know those days when you just can’t handle deep frying—like, no way are you hauling out the big pot and splattering oil everywhere? That’s when I turn to these Easy Extra Crispy Irish Oven-Fried Chicken Thighs. I swear, the first time I tried this, I almost set off the smoke detector, but—oops—wait, that's another story. My mum claims any oven-fried chicken is cheating but even she kept sneaking bites straight from the pan. Plus, there’s something a little magical about the way the coating gets crispy without your entire kitchen smelling like a chip shop (though honestly, there are worse smells).

Easy Extra Crispy Irish Oven-Fried Chicken Thighs Recipe Guide

Why You'll Love This (Or, Why I Make It Way Too Much)

I make this when I don’t have it in me to watch a pan, or when I really want that extra crunch without all the faff. My family goes crazy for this because the thighs get SO tasty, juicy and crispy…but you don’t have to beg anyone to clean up huge messes afterward—tiny victory! (I mean, let's be real: cleaning up congealed oil is my personal nemesis.) Actually, I think this gets even a little better the next day, but we can argue about that later. Oh, and if you’re ever stressed about fussy spices—don’t be. Where I grew up, paprika was 'exotic,' so do what you will.

What You'll Need (And What I've Swapped in When I Was Out of Stuff)

6-8 chicken thighs, bone-in, skin-on (I’ve used drumsticks in a pinch; it works, just shorter bake time)
2 cups buttermilk (or regular milk with a squeeze of lemon if that’s lurking in the fridge—grandmother insisted on 'real' buttermilk, but any acidified milk works, honestly)
1.5 cups flour (plain is fine, and I sometimes sneak in half a cup of cornmeal for extra crunch—don’t tell my kids)
1.5 teaspoon salt (I eyeball it, but you didn’t hear that here)
1 teaspoon cracked black pepper (cold mornings I use more, out of stubbornness)
1 teaspoon smoked paprika (totally optional, my uncle always said paprika was “just for color”)
¾ teaspoon garlic powder (sometimes I skip it—and it’s fine!)
½ teaspoon dried thyme (I raid the herb garden, but dried is fine, don’t fuss)
¼ teaspoon cayenne or chili powder (if you like that little kick at the end—sometimes I forget this, no disaster)
½ cup melted butter or neutral oil (I prefer butter, but oil does crisp it more)

How I Make It (With a Few Honest Admissions)

Preheat your oven to 220°C (about 425°F). I always forget to do this first, and then end up wrestling with a cold oven—don’t be me.
Line a big baking tray with foil (less washing up!) and set a rack on top. If you don’t have a rack, just put the chicken on the foil, flipping halfway—works nearly as well.
Whisk your buttermilk with a little salt and pepper in a bowl. Toss the chicken in there, coat everything. Sometimes I leave it to soak for hours, sometimes just 20 min—depends how hangry we all are.
Mix up flour, spices, more salt/pepper in a wide dish. Pull each thigh from the buttermilk, let it drip a bit (this is where I usually sneak a tiny taste—but raw chicken, so, probably shouldn’t…)
Press each piece thoroughly in the flour mix. Like, really go for it—this is your future crunch. If it looks a bit clumpy, that’s good!
Lay chicken on the rack, skin side up. Brush (or drizzle or dab with a spoon—no one is judging) melted butter or oil over each piece. This is the magic ingredient, I swear.
Bake for 40–45 minutes. I set a timer but peek in at 30 min to giggle at how good it’s starting to look. You want super crispy, golden bits—don’t worry if some parts are darker, it’s fine.
If you skipped the rack, flip the pieces for the final 10-15 min so each side crisps up.
Take out and let them rest, if you can be patient—this is the hardest step. (I almost never last five full minutes, but, in theory, it’s important so the juices stay in.)

Missteps, Muddles & Notes from My Kitchen

Sometimes the flour looks patchy—just dab on some extra oil, it’ll all crisp up in the oven, trust me.
Tried to make this with skinless thighs—actually, not nearly as good. The skin is like the blanket you want to curl up in all winter.
If you’re in a hurry, you can skip the soaking time, although I feel it’s worth it—makes the chicken juuust a little more tender.
Big thighs need more time. If you think they might be underdone, chop one open; better slightly over than pink.

Variations (Or Experiments, Both Brilliant and Bonkers)

I swapped in panko for half the flour once—extra crunch, loved it.
One time, tried it with Greek yogurt instead of buttermilk—tasted a bit more tangy, not bad, not as Irish-feeling though?
I once tried adding curry powder to the flour…let’s just say, that’s not in the O’Reilly family cookbook for a reason.

Kit I Rely On (But You Can Improvise)

Baking tray & rack (but honestly, foil on the tray plus a mid-bake flip is just grand)
Mixing bowls—big ones, because, well, things fly around
Tongs are nice so your fingers stay a bit cleaner, but two forks does the trick, too

Storing (Although It Almost Never Makes it Past Dinner)

Once cool, toss any leftovers (ha!) in a container in the fridge. Good for two days, but honestly, it’s one of those dishes someone seems to “accidentally” finish off at midnight. Reheat in the oven if you want the crisp to return—microwave = sad soggy regrets.

How We Serve It (And Why I Love Leftovers Cold)

I usually pop it on a plate with mashed potatoes (I know, classic) and maybe some honey-mustard on the side. My sister likes it with a big salad and crusty bread—each to their own. Oh, and it’s fabulous cold the next day in a sandwich, slathered with mayo and a bit of sharp cheddar if you ask me.

Mistakes (That You Don’t Need to Repeat, Promise)

I once tried skipping the butter drizzle thinking I was being healthier—the result? Sad chicken. Just use the butter.
If you rush tossing in the flour, the coating falls right off. Be gentle but thorough; think of it like giving the chicken a nice spa treatment.
Open the oven slowly at the end—steam burns are no fun (not dramatic, just a quick heads up form someone who’s done it the wrong way)

Questions I Get (Or, the Excuses Friends Make When They Want More)

Can I use chicken breasts instead of thighs? — Sure, but I find they aren’t nearly as juicy. If you’re going to, maybe pull them out a bit sooner so they don’t dry to jerky-levels!
Do I have to use buttermilk? — Nope, regular milk with lemon or vinegar works. Even plain yogurt thinned with a bit of water does the trick in a pinch. (Still, buttermilk is grand if you have it.)
Why did my coating fall off? — Two things: the chicken was too wet coming out of the buttermilk, or you handled it a bit too roughly. No worries, though, it’ll still taste better than takeaway.
Is this actually Irish? — Well, the flavors are inspired by what my granny cooked (and what was in the cupboard), not an official Irish pub thing, but close enough in my book.
Can I freeze it? — You can, but honestly the texture won’t be as good when reheated. I mean, you could try—if you do, tell me how it goes.

Random note: Once had a neighbor knock during dinner and ask what smelled so good—ended up sending him home with a drumstick. The next week, he brought me fresh parsley as a trade. Not a bad system, if you ask me!

Easy Extra Crispy Irish Oven-Fried Chicken Thighs Recipe Guide