southern

Bridge St. Garage (aka the best fried chicken in town…)

Posted on by leolawrence94

Bridge St. Garage, Sydney, Australia

If you’re searching for the best fried chicken in Sydney, look no further than Bridge St. Garage in the city’s CBD. It prides itself on serving ‘good ol’ fashioned comfort food’ with a Latin American twist on American diner classics, such as burgers, tacos and, most importantly, fried chicken. The Garage was one of the first restaurants Ole Sib and I visited upon arrival in Sydney and, ever since, we have been attempting to return to satiate our fried food cravings. However, our quest proved tricky in a city that seems to have an aversion to its restaurants remaining open past blue-plate special times on weekends… Points against you there, Sydney. We were finally successful after two failed attempts (third time’s a charm, I hear) and endless stalking of the restaurant’s tantalising instagram feed.

With no time to waste after having waited months to return to this establishment, we put our orders in with barely a glance at the menu: the fried chicken bucket and a side of fries for me and a pulled pork guacamole burger for Ole Sib. Now let me assure you, readers, that I am no stranger to fried chicken. While burgers and pizza feature heavily in my diet, fried chicken is my ultimate junk food choice, which is a heavy burden to bear given its elusiveness on restaurant menus. Why the noble fried chicken bucket must be reduced to a drunken late night snack or fast food bronze medallist behind those arrogant burgers and pizzas will forever be beyond my comprehension.

Enter the Bridge St. Garage fried chicken bucket, a wonderful assortment of Southern-style wings and drumsticks fried to the purest shade of gold with a perfect crunch to juice ratio (whatever your perfect ratio is, this bucket has it, I promise). They come with three sauces: a blue cheese sauce; a BBQ sauce and a trusty chipotle mayo, all of which can be enjoyed sufficiently given that you get a lot of bang for your buck (bang for your cluck, bang for your bucket… Insert preferred pun) with this choice. While the bucket itself is more than enough to satisfy a hungry stomach, the side of beer battered fries deserve an honourable mention as some of the best fries I have ever had. It turns out most things taste better when beer is involved.

While I raved on about my fried chicken, it appeared Ole Sib was enjoying her pulled pork guacamole burger as the sauce dripped down her arm (when it comes to burgers, the sloppier the better, people). The ordering method for burgers at Bridge St. Garage is worth mentioning here since you order a burger base and then add your choice of protein, which makes for an easily customised experience. Fries are also included with the burger, as God intended.

Despite having eyes only for our food, we both also commented on the décor of the restaurant, which incorporated fashionable retro features combined with an industrial chic vibe. Think subway tiles, exposed cement and neon lighting a-plenty. Couple this with a young man singing old Johnny Cash songs and you have yourself a master class in Americana. I would definitely recommend this as a top destination in the city and look forward to attempting to quash my love for fried chicken in order to try the rest of the good lookin’ eats on the menu. That is, if someone were to let Sydney’s restaurant owners know that occasionally people get hungry after 9pm on a Saturday…

http://bridgestgarage.com.au

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