Head down the stairs into this dark den that pays homage to the one and only… the chicken (not the egg). Whether you like it whole, halved or quartered this is the only place to eat it if you’re riding north.
It’s deep n dirty South down here, with a lot of dark wood (both walls and ceiling), a checked floor and a big rustic bar. Grab a table and pull up a red leather seat, or sit at the bar under those swinging red lamps and watch those chickens roasting (whilst praying that neatly stacked kindling doesn’t spark). The music background music is spot on and the ambience is sexy with flickering candles galore.
Eat chicken (obviously) with sides (chips, corn, salad or coleslaw) off the tin-like cutlery, (cowboys stylee). Wash it down with beer or wine, they like to keep things simple in here so don’t go expecting any cocktails. It would be an offence (least of all to your stomach, most of all to your waitress) if you don’t have the apple pie, it comes in a large bowl and you can scoop out as much as you like. Oh and in here the best things come in jugs: cream, wine, you name it, it’s in there.
NB watch out for the hot sauce, BarChick had a spillage on her plate and it’s definitely not lying.