![]() ![]() When all is said and done, the whole point of fried chicken is the crust. It’s not just dinner - it’s an event, to be washed down with a round of Tiger Lagers or, if you like, a bottle of Champagne. ![]() Ten years later, he looks like a genius pioneer in the chef-driven poultry category, and Momofuku Noodle Bar’s fried-chicken dinners, though $50 more expensive and climbing ($500 buys you a caviar supplement!), remain the gold standard of the high-low large-format feed, the best way to demolish a couple birds with seven of your closest friends, and the ultimate inducer of order envy among the noodle-slurping hoi polloi. When David Chang unleashed his reservation-only, $100 fried-chicken feast back in 2009, some folks thought he was meshugenah. Two whole fried chickens cooked two ways: Old Bay-seasoned southern-style and spicy-glazed Korean, served with neither mac n’ cheese nor pickled daikon but moo shoo pancakes, Bibb lettuce, a slew of sauces, and a basket of Greenmarket herbs. The chicken almost always arrives too hot to eat, but that stops exactly no one from digging in. The standard order, as always, is a plate of golden, shaggy, and enigmatically juicy thighs the approximate size and shape of pre-ice-sheet-melt Greenland. The general late-night vibe is vaguely waterlogged and “people yelling at each other” in a bar space not much larger than a storage container filled with 1960s cocktail kitsch, but who cares - that chicken is very good. The result is top-of-the-Scoville-charts hot, fairly juicy, and, at $10 a pop, all the rage among the LaGuardia Community College students across the street. Later, along with potatoes cut into wedges, it’s rubbed down in a secret spice blend more closely guarded than the Colonel’s, cloaked in cornstarch, and deep-fried to a fare-thee-well. Rob Patronite and Robin Raisfeldīoneless thigh meat from a halal butcher is chopped into pieces and soaked in Greek yogurt with ginger and garlic. The chicken comes glazed with spicy honey in a silver bowl or platter, and it’s so fiendishly good it’s restricted to the bar area - for fear, no doubt, that otherwise the kitchen would be up to its eyeballs in fried-chicken tickets. These birds are salt-cured, double-dipped in seasoned flour, and by some advanced frying technique cooked until the crust is as crunchy as a Greenpeace sidewalk solicitor. Someone up top, however, eventually deemed the stuff fit for public consumption, and that is good news for fried-chicken aficionados. It does not store any personal data.Like a lot of the best things you find on menus these days, the fried chicken at the Beatrice Inn began as a “family” meal, one of those rustic, supposedly not-ready-for-prime-time snacks the line cooks hog for themselves. The cookie is set by the GDPR Cookie Consent plugin and is used to store whether or not user has consented to the use of cookies. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Performance". ![]() This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookies is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Necessary". The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Other. The cookie is set by GDPR cookie consent to record the user consent for the cookies in the category "Functional". The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Analytics". These cookies ensure basic functionalities and security features of the website, anonymously. Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. ![]()
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