Crispy Chicken Parmesan (Chicken Parmigiana)

jonashton
3 hours ago
5 min read

Why Everyone's Obsessed with Chicken Parmesan (And Why You Should Be Too)

Ah, Chicken Parmesan. Or Chicken Parmigiana, if you're feeling fancy and wearing a linen napkin. The very name evokes molten cheese, tomato-slicked sauce, and something golden and crisp that crunches before it yields. It’s one of those dishes that straddles the line between homey and heroic.

Imagine it: a tender chicken breast, lovingly flattened, bathed in egg, dragged through seasoned breadcrumbs, and fried until golden and audibly crisp. Then it’s tucked into a bubbling pan of tomato sauce, smothered in mozzarella (and often a noble grating of Parmesan), then baked until it emerges looking like it’s just won an award.

It’s a dish that makes you feel held. It smells of bubbling cheese and Sunday evenings. It tastes like family, even if your actual family couldn’t cook their way out of a cereal box.

Here’s what I’ve learned after many a Parmesan pilgrimage:

1. Pound the Chicken Like You Mean It

Not to oblivion—but until it’s even and thin enough to cook quickly. Thick cutlets lead to dry middles or burnt crusts, and no one wants that.

2. Season Everything

Egg wash, flour, breadcrumbs—every layer should taste like something. Salt, pepper, and a whisper of garlic powder in the breadcrumbs can turn “meh” into “marry me.”

3. Fry in Oil That’s Hot But Not Hostile

Medium-high heat. We want sizzle, not singe. And give the chicken space! Overcrowding the pan is the culinary equivalent of wearing a wool sweater to the beach.

4. Make a Proper Sauce

Don’t phone it in. A simple tomato sauce made with garlic, olive oil, crushed San Marzano tomatoes, and a pinch of red pepper flakes will do wonders. Simmer it slowly. It should taste like it’s been loved.

5. Use Good Cheese (And Use A Lot)

Mozzarella for stretch, Parmesan for sharpness. If you can sneak in a bit of provolone or fontina, even better. Cheese is not a topping here—it’s a blanket.

Fun Facts About Chicken Parm That’ll Make You Hungry

It’s a Sandwich Too: In many parts of the U.S., Chicken Parm gets snuggled into a hoagie roll and becomes a hot sandwich of mythic proportions. Is it messy? Yes. Is it worth it? Absolutely.

Australia’s Obsession: In Australia, Chicken Parm is affectionately known as a "Parma" and is found in pubs everywhere. It's typically served with chips (fries) and a side salad, which no one eats.
It Has a Cult Following: There are entire Reddit threads, TikTok pages, and blogs devoted to rating Chicken Parm across cities. It’s become a barometer of a restaurant’s soul.

Why Chicken Parmesan Will Never Go Out of Style

Because some dishes don’t just feed us—they anchor us. Chicken Parm isn’t reinventing the wheel. It doesn’t need foam or tweezers or edible flowers. It just needs a plate, a fork, and preferably a napkin you don’t mind staining.

It smells of tomato and triumph. It feels crisp, hot, and tender in the mouth. It tastes like a hug from someone who knows when to stop talking and just let you eat.

And in a world that often demands perfection, Chicken Parmesan just wants you to sit down, shut up, and be fed.

A Final Thought: Make It, Eat It, Love It

Whether you’re making it for someone you love or just because the week has been unkind, Chicken Parm is the answer to more than just hunger. It’s comfort. It’s drama. It’s cheesy in all the right ways.

And if you’re smart, you’ll serve it with a glass of red, a bowl of spaghetti, and no shame.

There is something soul-settling about a well-made Chicken Parmigiana—the kind that arrives at the table still bubbling from the oven, its edges caramelized and crisp, its centre molten with cheese and the deep, heady scent of tomato, garlic, and basil.

This version is inspired by my dear friend and neighbor, Theresa—an Italian-American matriarch in spirit if not by title—who believed, rightly so, that food should make you feel deeply nourished and profoundly loved. It’s the sort of meal that doesn’t ask for praise but earns it anyway.

Ingredients:

For the Breading

2 cups panko breadcrumbs

¾ cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

4 teaspoons minced fresh thyme

1 tablespoon granulated garlic

1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for seasoning the eggs

1 teaspoon freshly milled black pepper, plus more for seasoning the eggs

2 large eggs, beaten

½ cup all-purpose flour

For the Chicken

3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 2 pounds total)

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 cup extra-virgin olive oil

½ cup neutral oil (such as vegetable oil)

To Assemble

1½ cups shredded whole-milk mozzarella

1½ cups finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

4 cups homemade marinara sauce (or Rao’s, if you're taking a worthy shortcut)

15 fresh basil leaves, large and roughly torn

INSTRUCTIONS:

Begin by setting up a breading station—three shallow bowls will do.

In the first, combine the breadcrumbs, Parmigiano, thyme, garlic, and a teaspoon each of salt and pepper. In the second, beat the eggs and season them lightly. The third bowl is simply for the flour. Line them up in order—flour, egg, then breadcrumb mixture—like steps in a well-rehearsed kitchen ritual.

Now, prepare the chicken.

Working one at a time, place each chicken breast into a freezer bag or between two sheets of baking parchment and gently pound it to an even ¼-inch thickness using a mallet or rolling pin. Slice each breast in half crosswise, giving you six even cutlets. Season both sides generously with salt and black pepper.

Coat each cutlet first in the flour, shaking off the excess, then in the egg, allowing any drips to fall away, and finally press them gently but firmly into the breadcrumb mixture, ensuring every inch is well covered. Set them aside.

In a large Dutch oven or a heavy cast-iron pan, heat the olive oil and vegetable oil together over medium-high heat. Once shimmering, add the chicken in batches—do not overcrowd the pan. Fry until golden and crisp on both sides, about 3 to 5 minutes per piece. Transfer to a 9 × 13-inch baking dish and season lightly with salt while still warm. Repeat with the remaining chicken.

To Finish

Set your oven to broil.

In a mixing bowl, combine the mozzarella and Parmigiano. Spoon the marinara sauce generously over the chicken cutlets, letting it pool slightly around them and sink into the edges. Scatter the cheese mixture over the top, and broil for 4 to 5 minutes, until the cheese is bubbling and golden in spots, and the scent is utterly irresistible.

Remove from the oven, scatter with the torn basil leaves, and serve at once—ideally with nothing more than good bread and better company.

Leftovers, if they survive, keep beautifully under a snug layer of foil in the fridge for up to three days. But let’s be honest: this dish has a way of disappearing long before then—often in quiet raids of the fridge just past midnight, fork in hand, no plate required.