
Forgetting for a moment how much I loathe the phrase "eat like a man," I encourage all of you to go vote for the most existence-reorienting hot oil-submerged poultry in your estimation. My dearly departed grandmother's — an impossibly delicious, dark brown-crusted delicacy I've never seen the equal of — isn't on the list, so I'll have to choose from the eight presented.
Of those, I've had three — Ezell's in Seattle, Harold's in Chicago and Prince's here in Nashville. Only one changed my life, and I'll let you guess which one. (For what it's worth, Harold's would win for Most Bullet-Proof Glass Between Me and the Person Serving the Chicken, and I swear the best I had in Seattle was actually a honey-drizzled dish at the 5 Spot on Queen Anne, though I may be remembering wrong — it's been a while.)
Gus's Memphis location — the subject of some recent debate here at Bites — is the other Tennessee bird fryer to make this particular elite eight.
So go forth and vote for whichever joint has the most fixed-gear bike shops nearby, or something like that.
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