What to order: The plate ($14.95) comes with two generously portioned sides. You spend half the meal plucking off crisp, sweet-spicy morsels, and the other half devouring the juicy meat underneath. Bill Greenwood plunges hefty pieces into a wet batter rife with black pepper, and after deep-frying them in canola oil, he drizzles the rippling surface with local honey. This one’s for those who secretly like the crust more than the meat. What to order: Three pieces of chicken ($18) come with a side of white wine–Tabasco sauce for dipping and a seasonal salad-peach and basil in the summer, for example, or a mix of pleasantly bitter greens in the winter. The result is a glossy amber shell that shatters with every chomp. Then he cools the bird until service time, when his team deep-fries every serving to order. He starts by coating brined drumsticks, thighs, and deboned breast meat in flour and cornstarch and steaming each piece just until the surface becomes a uniform varnish. 1028 Canton St, Roswell, (678) 869-5178, Įxecutive chef and co-owner Todd Ginsberg devised an ingenious two-step cooking process for his Friday night special. What to Order: A single order ($19) comes with a leg, wing, breast, and thigh and choice of side (go for the collards). What emerges from the fryer is a boulder-size reflection of Southern hospitality.
The half-chicken soaks in a brine of salt, sugar, and other spices for 12 hours before getting dunked in buttermilk and then dredged in seasoned flour twice. Underneath an armor of crust that crumbles and flakes onto the table is chicken with an unrivaled juice factor. Drive, 40, Ĭlucking at the heels of Busy Bee’s iconic bird is the dinner-plate sized one at Ryan Pernice’s dining mainstay in downtown Roswell. Broccoli-cheese casserole, collards, and a vivid-orange carrot souffle are available daily. If you stop in Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, try the onion-flecked black-eyed peas. What to order: The chicken ($12.99 for plain or smothered, a comforting variation) comes with two sides and bread. In its honest simplicity, it embodies all the qualities that make Southern fried chicken timeless. And among Atlanta’s meat-and-threes and soul-food joints, it is the most consistent: crackly, juicy, and just salty enough. But unlike cheffier versions served once a week in fancier restaurants, you can relish this trouper any day you’d like. The bird is brined for a day, dredged in seasoned flour, and dunked in bubbling peanut oil: no dazzling alchemy of frying fats, no innovative cooking methods. Its bronzed crust is sheer, without dramatic ripples or speckles of spices. The fried chicken at this West End mainstay, in operation since 1947, doesn’t preen.
0 kommentar(er)
