Lunch

Butter

Posted on by leolawrence94

Butter, Sydney, Australia (our farewell to Sydney!)

Warning: this post contains images that may cause drooling.

Brace yourselves, boys and girls, for I am about to recount to you the tale of the most wonderful restaurant concept upon which I have ever stumbled. The place: Butter. The time: fried chicken time. If you have been keeping up with my blog, you’ll be aware that fried chicken is probably my most raved about food because I believe it is terribly underrated (see post: Bridge St. Garage), but for all those newbies out there let the record state that I love fried chicken with all my heart. Interestingly enough, I also love champagne. Perhaps even greater than my love for champagne is my love for sneakers. Enter: Butter, a hybrid sneaker, fried chicken and champagne bar located in trendy Surry Hills.

On arrival, two things stand out at this establishment (things that one has a fair amount of time to ponder while inevitably waiting for a table at this popular joint). The first is the giant glass wall showcasing the best of the best sneakers around, adorned lazily with champagne bottles. I’m talking Jordans galore. The second is the sweet sweet sound of hip-hop music. These snazzy kicks combined with hoppin’ beats and champagne bottles make for an atmosphere reminiscent of what I should imagine an after party hosted by Drake might look like. One can only hope that I discover whether my suspicions are correct in this regard. Once you’ve wrestled your way to a table (try and hold out for the bar at the window for ultimate people watching between the sneakers), the menu will grab you. You have a choice of different amounts of fried chicken (3 pac or size 13s – genius) or a number of other options such as the cheezus sandwich, which has my personal recommendation.

As if the names of the items on the menu weren’t witty and amusing enough for hip hop fans, the heat rating of the sauces you can choose is also original and fantastic. It starts out with naked, then OG (original gangster, if you didn’t know), fire and finally hot AF. I’ll leave you to google the last one if you aren’t a millennial or present on social media but, for the avoidance of doubt, this one is really really hot so tread carefully. I went for the cheezus sandwich with a side of shoelace fries. The sandwiches come with their own sauce so there is no need to choose how hot you’d like it, which is helpful since I don’t trust myself to make the right decision in this situation. The cheezus comes with a delightful honey mustard sauce and coleslaw. I appreciate the tradition of coleslaw with southern cooked meats but will always think of it as a pointless garnish, so I will leave you to decide how the coleslaw rates. Sorry, coleslaw.

Having been fortunate to try more than my fair share of fried chicken and even more fortunate to sample this delicacy in the Deep South aka the home of fricken, I came in with high expectations since this is perhaps the only food I feel almost qualified to be snobbish about. I can happily say that Butter met those expectations with flying chickens, which were juicy and tender while the batter was crispy with minimal grease. A solid show all round it appears, as Ole Sib seemed very taken with her OG 3 pac also.

To conclude, Butter is an excellent establishment to enjoy some good quality fried chicken and feel classy while enjoying the large selection of champagne. Plus, you can rest assured that all your friends will think you’re super cool and you can leave the establishment safe in the knowledge that now you will be the OG of your friendship group since you clearly have impeccable taste in restaurant and sneaker.

http://www.buttersydney.com.au

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Jackson & Rye

Posted on by leolawrence94

Jackson & Rye, Soho, London

Always ones to seek out American dining options in London, we headed eagerly to Jackson & Rye in Soho for lunch this week. Having seen branches in Richmond and Chiswick as well, this had been on the list for a while and the bustling Soho branch seemed like a good place to try it out.

Upon entry, we realised that this was more than your typical American diner in that it was more specifically themed as a southern, New Orleans style restaurant. The décor was elegant, featuring lots of mirrors, a large deep oak bar and beautifully tiled floors, evoking a wartime Deep South atmosphere. Big fans of the Big Easy, we welcomed the NOLA classics on the menu, such as shrimp poboys and gumbo and settled straight into a refreshing New Orleans beer as we contemplated our options.

Not willing to mess around, we went straight for the main course. My sister (henceforth to be named Old Sibling/Ole Sib, I have just decided on a whim) opted for an avocado shrimp burger that didn’t disappoint. I, on the other hand, like my chicken fried (a cold beer on a Friday night, a pair of jeans that fit just right – holla to all you Zac Brown Band fans out there) and went for a buttermilk fried chicken sandwich. As soon as the lettuce was whipped out (this ain’t called holdthelettuce for no reason), I relished this perfectly fried chicken cutlet that was accompanied by some delightfully crispy skinny fries. There is true happiness in fried food.

Not to be deterred by the sheer volume of fried goods we had just consumed, dessert was calling in the form of s’mores. S’mores (the shortening of ‘some more’) are an integral part of the typical American kid’s life and symbolise EVERYTHING THAT IS GOOD about this world. The crackers must be Graham crackers; the chocolate must be Hershey’s and the marshmallows must be… marshmallows… I think. Above all, s’mores are best consumed around a camp fire where you can spear your marshmallow on a stick sourced straight from the ground and inevitably end up with a gooey, sloppy mess that tastes like heaven.

However, since starting fires in restaurants is frowned upon, we settled for our s’mores served on a plate. After removing a questionable green sprig that I can only assume was placed on top of the s’more as a decorative joke, we delved into the goodness. A fancy version of the campfire classic, Jackson & Rye’s giant s’more had us wanting some more for sure.

Stuffed to the britches, we concluded that Jackson & Rye was a great choice to fulfil our American cravings. The soundtrack to our dining experience was spectacular, conjuring up images of dancing along the Bayou with upbeat jazz music that I imagined was being played by Louis the alligator from The Princess and The Frog. The only thing left to do now is return to NOLA and set up my own restaurant like Tiana (Disney references will not be used sparingly).

http://www.jacksonrye.com