I'm no expert on fried chicken - far, far from it. I rarely eat it, and can probably count the number of times I've ever had it on both hands. It wasn't a food we ever, ever ate growing up (although I spent a fair amount of time begging mom and dad for KFC buckets). I've never had homemade fried chicken from anybody's home. I've only ever had KFC, Popeyes, and Stanley's fried chicken (a Chicago bar serving up barrels of peanuts and Sunday "chicken and waffles" brunches). My scope of fried chicken exposure is shockingly small.
Yet for weeks I've had this inexplicable craving for it. A and I both have been "threatening" to pick up fried chicken buckets on the way home, and contemplating paying $16.95 for West Town Tavern's Monday night fried chicken special (a great neighborhood restaurant, by the way. It's nice but not "fancy," inexpensive but not cheap, with a menu that's both familiar and inventive - and worth every cent. Go.)
After going to a friend's father's wake yesterday, our group was in need of something to nourish our souls and bellies. After a short debate of the many options along one arbitrary stretch of North Avenue (Uberstein, Lillie's Q, Piece) we settled on The Southern - "a central gathering place where the tallest order of the day is a cocktail, conversation, and relaxation." It's been hyped (justly, we found) since opening earlier this year for its riffs on southern food, elevating the homestyle recipes without making anything seem fussy or fancy. The rough-hewn wood tables, many fireplaces, and southern rock playing in the background reinforce this casual, at-home, comfortable vibe - but the food is much better than most home kitchens!
Usually, the Southern offers its fried chicken only as a reserve-in-advance, 6-person-or-more, part-of-a-family-style-dinner dish. Except, as luck would have it, on Wednesdays, when since two weeks ago the Chef has been offering half a fried chicken, a homemade biscuit, and mushroom gravy as a $14 blue plate special ($3 Abita beers are also on special every Wednesday - score!) When we learned this little fact, well, 2 or the 3 had their minds made up for them - it's fried chicken for dinner tonight.
According to our server, Chef Cary Taylor marinates the chicken in buttermilk and spices for two days before breading and frying the chicken. And, much like the two-dip fry technique used to make the best french fries, he fries it once, cooks the chicken through in the oven, then returns the chicken to the fryer to crisp it up again before serving. A unique process, no doubt, but would it be worth it?
In a word, yes. Lest you think the three-fold technique would dry out the chicken, it didn't. The perfectly cooked chicken was very moist, tender, and flavorful. The crust and skin were unbelievable crispy, with a hint of spice. Perhaps, just maybe, I wanted a bit more salt on the chicken. But, then again, I want a bit more salt on just about everything, so let's chalk it up to a salty preference on my end.
Besides the great food, cheap beer, interesting cocktail menu (punch bowls - seriously? I'm coming back just for one of those!) and inviting atmosphere (you could easily stay a long, long while), the service was pretty awesome. Except for one 10-minute time frame where we never saw our server, he (and his bussers/runners) was mostly spot-on with recommendations, timing, filling empty drinks, bussing plates, and answering questions. Above and beyond that, exec chef Cary was out and about the entire night, talking to every table multiple times and genuinely wanting to make sure everyone in his place was enjoying themselves. Whereas sometimes I might find this intrusive, the people here just seemed friendly and, more importantly, invested in what they were doing. Which was being awesome.
In a word, go to The Southern. Say hi to Cary, too.
I want to go back and have the Shrimp and Grits and the Maple 46 to drink. Or maybe a punch bowl. I want to do this now, even though I just finished lunch.
ReplyDelete