Tender, with outrageously crisp, well- battered skin, Monday’s bone-in chicken alone is worth a trip to the amenable digs of Tony’s Southern Comfort, where a card table up front displays mouthwatering pies, your reward for the easy task of cleaning your plate.
Dallas’s well-nigh-mythical Highland Park Cafeteria lives on in spirit and recipes at the Casa Linda Cafeteria, near Lakewood, where every serving of fried chicken recalls the best Sunday dinner ever; the pieces are gigantic, the batter golden, thick, and crunchy. Under the Mecca’s ceiling fans and college pennants from Notre Dame and Navy to Texas A&M and UT, little folks and grown-ups alike tear into big, juicy hunks of chicken; each order, whether half a bird or a boneless breast, is cloaked in an exceptionally flaky crust.
Thank heaven for Elmer’s. Simply put, the fried chicken at this forties-style place is the best in the city. The meat has a slightly smoky taste, and the “secret ingredient” in the batter is decidedly sweet. One member of the after-church crowd confessed, “The thought of Elmer’s chicken is the only thing that gets me through the sermon.”
Guests at Massey’s amuse themselves by studying old baseball photos and vintage movie posters while waiting the requisite twenty minutes or so for a fresh batch of the kitchen’s exquisite, fried-to-order bird to land on their table. Each giant piece is covered in a thin, crispy, darkish-brown crust. Simple and bright Paris Coffee Shop, painted a creamy vanilla and