This Northwest spot has been slammed ever since it opened, particularly by after-church crowds on Sundays. The good news is that once you’re seated in the crowded barn-wood-meets-corrugated-metal dining room, you’ll get your drinks quickly, thematically served in mason jars (red Kool-Aid is an option), along with a plate of corn bread to munch as you wait for the staff to catch up (and sweet, tender, honey-rich corn bread it is). Best on the menu: the chicken, beautifully crisp and fried to a deep golden brown (the waffles are ordinary, but not offensive). Fried green tomatoes with a big, deep cornmeal crust also point to fry-chef mastery and a skilled hand with buttermilk dressing, but chicken gizzards are a disappointment—nice crust, but the gizzards are akin to a dog’s chew toy.