Honey Butter Fried Chicken

honey butter fried chicken night rain chicago 3rdarm

On Saturday it was seventy degrees for the first time since the beginning of October. That’s almost a full six months. The energy in the city was wild. The next day a low pressure system brought the temperature back down. On a rainy Sunday, Etta and I went to the late afternoon showtime for Noah, directed by Darren Aronofsky. I had listened to the podcast On Point with Tom Ashbrook about the meaning of the Great Flood, and hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. I can stop thinking about it now: we should of gone to see the Grand Hotel Budapest per the recommendation of Mrs. Yak and Aunty.

honey butter fried chicken plate 3rdarm chicago

After the movie, Etta recommended we pick up Honey Butter Fried Chicken: we had both heard good things. It’s funny, the Chicago food critics who decry the saturation of new chicken restaurants. Newsflash: people like to eat chicken. And I don’t mind paying more, say high twenties for 8 pieces, because I know Honey Butter Fried Chicken is getting well-treated chickens. I want my chickens happy alive, delicious after death, and Honey Butter does that. I thought the drumstick would be the main event, but the juicy thigh stole the show with its bonelessness.

The sides were good too. I really like the spicy mac and cheese (spiral noodles). The schmaltzy (chicken fat) mashed potatoes were sickeningly schmaltzy, in a good way. The kale slaw cut the schmaltz back. Still, I could handle at most 2 chicken pieces in a serving. I also ate Honey Butter’s salty cookie and brownie: I love the salt with the sweet, so I was a big fan. That night they were out of dump cake. This is rich food, even before the honey butter goes on. And it goes on.

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