LeRoy’s Fried Chicken (116th new thing)

Julia Leroy is a former roommate of mine, awesome chef, and all-around cool gal, so when she opened her own fried chicken stand in Westside Patrick and I wanted to try it out. On Day One Hundred Sixteen we took our hungry bellies across the city to taste some darn good food at LeRoy’s Fried Chicken. That’s Luh-Roy, not Lee-Roy.

The restaurant is actually a walk up service style joint, with the menu printed in big letters next to the sliding windows where you place your order. We opted to share the three piece meal, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, biscuits, and a sweet tea. We debated eating on one of the two high tables set in front, but it was was too hot to rest our sensitive elbows on metal that had been absorbing hot Georgia summer sun all day, so we opted to take the meal to-go.

On the drive back from LeRoy’s the rumbling in my stomach prompted me to have a taste of one of the biscuits. It was so good. Moist and buttery, not dry at all. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. I shared as little as possible with Patrick and secretly plotted how I could finagle having the second biscuit to myself as well. I’m a selfish eater.

We arrived home and laid out our individually boxed wares on the dining room table.  I loved the clean lines of the food in its white containers; the logo stamped on the brown paper bag that held everything was a beautiful touch as well.

My last experience with fried chicken was the Popeye’s adventure with Andre, so I was expecting something tasty but possibly ruinous to my digestive system. I was pleasantly surprised (sorry Dre). Julia cooks her all natural locally raised chickens in lard which is apparently much better for you than oil. It made the skin thicker, but was still crispy. Being the weirdo that I am, I pulled half the outer layer off, anxious to get to the hot breast meat underneath. And it was so good. And hot. I surprisingly ate all of my piece of bird along with a healthy helping of mac n cheese. I knew her mac and cheese was good, and Julia’s collards are one of the few versions of the dish that I actually enjoy. Usually I find the greens too bitter for my taste. All was followed by a large share of the remaining biscuit.

Of course, after our lunch, both Patrick and I curled up for an afternoon nap; the perfect end to a full Southern meal.