Chicken and Waffles -- Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles, Los Angeles, CA
Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles
Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles
Only three stops into our food tour of Los Angeles, and we are growing delirious. Some may blame the jetlag. Some may blame the fact that we haven't been bowled over by any of the Best Thing I Ever Ate dishes yet. But we would blame the fact that we are in desperate need of a cocktail.
|Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are|
After our excursion for tacos, Vodka checks the double-decker tour bus app and discovers that the bus we had planned to ride in the direction of our next eating location is less than two minutes away. The problems with this are a) if we miss this bus, the next one won't arrive for another 45 minutes, b) we're not exactly sure where the bus stop is, and c) however we slice it, we're going to be required to run.
take off "running" (LA's abundance of personal trainers would almost
certainly not consider our trot "running") in the direction we think the
tour bus will be, and sure enough, a double-decker monstrosity is
straight ahead. At this time, we break into a full-on "sprint" (again,
the categorization of our speed is subjective) and throw ourselves onto
the bus just as the driver opens the door.
|Doesn't Everyone Arrive at 5-Star Restaurants on Sightseeing Buses?|
Where, save for the driver, the bus is completely empty.
|No Problem -- Might You Know Where We Could Find a Bar?|
Said driver informs us that the actual bus stop, for the actual bus, is somewhere "across the street" (communication issues prevent us from understanding exactly what bus, what street, and what stop he is referring to). Our impatience results in a decision to throw money at the problem and instead to flag down one of our trusty Uber drivers, who carts us to Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles, home of Duff Goldman's Best Thing I Ever Ate COMBOS dish, the chicken and waffle.
|All Restaurants Should Hang This Warning When We Come to Town|
When we stumble out of the bright sunshine (Vodka would say TOO bright of sunshine) into the relatively dark interior of Roscoe's, we immediately feel as though we have entered some sort of alternate universe. We are ushered to a table by the very jovial host (again with the people in LA being disarmingly nice), and we are at once disheartened to find that the only drinks available on the menu are beer (which we despise) and "house wine," a term which has proven in the past to be our heads' personal nemesis.
|House Wine = Hangovers R Us|
As the clock clicks disturbingly close to noon, we resign ourselves to yet another sober meal as we place an order for a single platter of chicken and waffles.
It bears repeating that we ordered ONE platter of chicken and waffles. Or so we thought.
Within minutes, plates of the infamous combo are placed in front of both of us.
|We Really Need to Stop Using the Royal We|
Now, if still in New York, there is a solid chance that we would have fought this circumstance. That we would have chased down our waiter and insisted that he take away the accidental waffle, both from our table, and perhaps more importantly, from our check.
|Mister, Do You Know How Many Meals We Have Left to Eat Today?!|
But in less than a half day, LA seems to have mellowed us. It's the problem, we decide, when everyone is so bloody NICE to us -- we then feel bad going at them in our usual guns-blazing fashion. And so, we reluctantly begin making our way through our separate plates of chicken and waffles.
|Leggo My Eggo, This Is Not|
After all, we do love a salty/sweet pairing, so perhaps we'll be grateful that we each have our own portion, and for once, do not have to share....
Yeah, not so much.
|The Perfect Bite?|
The fried chicken portion of Roscoe's offering is really quite good. Crispy on the outside and moist and juicy on the inside, it is even preferred to some of the Best Thing I Ever Ate FRIED CHICKEN dishes we've tasted in the past.
|You Know What Would Go Well With This Chicken? ALCOHOL|
The waffle, however, doesn't have much in the way of flavor, and after a solid helping of real Vermont maple syrup earlier at BLD, the grocery store version available here just doesn't seem to cut it. Vodka ends up eating the chicken on its own, while Ginger mostly winds up consuming the butter.
|Happy Cholesterol Check to You, Too|
After acquiring some to-go boxes, we dump the remainder of our plates inside, assuming that they will last all of a block before we get tired of carrying them.
the end, it turns out the leftovers prove to be quite useful later in the day
while stuck in traffic on top of one of the infamous double-decker
Which we suppose proves that you never know when an accidental
waffle just might come in handy.
|Now, Doesn't That Look Appetizing?|
|"And On Your Left, You'll Find Two Girls Gnawing on a Chicken Bone..."|