The best fried chicken in the world?

Posted: June 2, 2013 in coffee, Writing
Tags: , , ,

I’m taking a small break from telling you about coffee today, to tell you instead about food. Specifically chicken and double specifically, fried chicken.

Today’s post comes to you all the way from Brooklyn, New York, where I’m spending a few days visiting my good buddy Sticky. Sticky moved to Canada some years ago but likes to get around (he also likes to ‘get around’, if you know what I mean, but that’s another story) and has taken an apartment in Brooklyn for the month.  We’ve been to see a play called Sleep No More, in an huge abandoned building in Chelsea, which is my second experience of immersive theatre, basically a cross between a play, a dance, an art installation and a ghost train, and is I’m convinced the future of theatre; sitting still and watching stuff on a stage now is just going to seem so dull.  If I say it involved drinking absinthe and watching people fight naked in bar, you’ll get some idea of  our evening. We also ran Broadway, which is basically the entire length of Manhattan and is pretty much exactly a half marathon. Who knew?

So about the fried chicken. This is where we ate:peaches hothouse

Peaches HotHouse  a quiet, barely noticeable neighbourhood restaurant in Bedford Stuyvesant, one of the sketchier areas of Brooklyn. It was only thanks to Sticky’s ear to the ground knowledge that we knew it was there at all.  I went full on Southern style and ordered the fried chicken, grits and collard greens. To be honest, I could have lived without the grits (watery porridge) and the collard greens (cabbage), but the chicken was off  the chart. It comes in three spicing levels, the medium we had was already pretty fierce, and was the crispiest, tenderest, thing I have ever eaten.  You know what I think did it? There was a little sugar in the dredge along with all the other spices. Awesome. And if that wasn’t enough, they served cocktails in jars. Jars, I tell you!

jar

After we’d eaten  I asked the waiter for a coffee to go with my Knob Creek, and he looked a little puzzled, went off to check with the kitchen and came back to tell me that coffee wasn’t on the menu. Americans, huh.

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Comments
  1. […] stumble across in this beautiful city of ours. It reminded me of the just developing parts of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, that I was hanging out in not so long back, where all the cats hang who know that today’s abandoned light industrial wasteland is […]

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