Somewhere in my teens, I had some crazy idea that girls had to eat grilled chicken. Grilled chicken -- unlike the fried variety -- was healthy and neat, not fattening, and certainly not so messy as to earn the descriptor “finger-lickin’ good.” Grilled chicken became my poultry of choice, and I convinced myself that fried chicken didn’t even taste good.
I stuck with this self-inflicted sacrifice for nearly 15 years...until I got pregnant. I figured if there was ever a time to get fat -- and get messy -- well, now was that time. And once I had a taste of the forbidden fruit -- crisp on the outside, juicy on the inside, bursting with flavor, and oh-so finger-licking good -- I was hooked. I couldn’t stop at a drumstick or a few occasional breasts. Then I couldn’t stop when the baby came. I needed to make up for 15 lost years.
Luckily in New York City, there’s enough options to keep me crunching away on a relatively regular (weekly) basis. Some people love pie (Kaity). I love fried chicken. Here are five of my faves in New York City. Where's yours?