Benjamin L. Haas

After a few wistful post-work pints at Peter McManus Cafe (co-worker's last Friday out at the bar), I almost went to BBQ Chicken & Beer down the street for recharging. But instead I agreed to meet Marci at Birdies, Grandma's Chicken in the East Village instead, where I was really just expecting to soak up the alcohol in my stomach with some greasy platefuls. GOOD CHOICE! Unexpectedly, I had some of the best damn fried chicken I've eaten in this city. Maybe it's because it was during a slow spot on this Friday evening, and maybe the food received an inordinate amount of careful attention in the kitchen, but regardless, I'm super impressed.

Marci said the secret ingredient was celery salt. I would've guessed just regular salt. Dunno which it was, and we didn't ask, even though we were the only folks in the joint at 9pm. We got a small basket (two drumsticks and a thigh), and two breast cutlets (they don't offer bone-in breast pieces). As usual, I tackled the dark meat and Marci stuck to the white, and we split an order of biscuits, an order of collard greens, and an order of mashed potatoes & gravy. The chicken pieces were huge — I mean big, fat limbs that were still sizzling when they arrived. The batter was crispy (but not oily) and extremely flavorful (but not over-salted or over-peppered). The potatoes were so-so, but the greens had some unctuous, meatiness going on, and the biscuits were just damn good – a little sweet and fluffy – and they tore apart in these cool whorls. Obviously we couldn't eat all that we ordered, so we boxed the remainders up to go (yes, we were the one with the stinky meat bag at the New Year show later that night at the Music Hall of Williamsburg). Stuff was a little dry when reheated the next day, but that's not even really a complaint.

Ok, fine, so I don't really know from good fried chicken. After all I'm just some Jewish kid from the Cleveland suburbs. Before age 18, I though chicken fingers in the Fry Daddy were the pinnacle of fried cuisine. I've never been to the South, unless a weekend in North Carolina counts. But here, in this case, I know I'm right. Total steal at just under twenty-five bucks.

Birdies, Grandma's Fried Chicken (map)
149 1st Ave
New York, NY 10003