Fried chicken is a thing of glory. As a kid, my Mom would get out her big ole skillet, melt down some Crisco and butter and fry up the best meals of my life. Her secret weapon, “Chicken Savers.” A biscuit she fried right alongside the chicken.
Crispy, chicken flavored, savory biscuits. Lord help me. That memory alone is a comfort. That’s what fried chicken is to me. Down-home comfort food.
Yet, as an adult, fried chicken is something I’ve only made twice. It’s not easy, it can get a little messy and honestly, half the comfort is having someone else make it for you.
Still, my affinity for fried chicken? It. Goes. Deep. If I’m out and fried chicken is on the menu, it’s happening.
Irving St Chicken Delivery
Like many Portlanders, I started drooling the minute I heard Irving St. Kitchen is now delivering fried chicken. All of that comfort food, at home, without the mess. Yes! But, like others, I was equally disappointed to be outside their delivery radius. Goshdangit!
Thankfully, Irving Street is taking pity on souls seeking comfort food by offering the same fried chicken for pickup. Score!
When you pick up fried chicken and drive it home, you’re asking for it. Think you’re going to get home before eating it? Never. Gonna. Happen. Resistance is futile.
Half-way through hot boxing my fried chicken, I had visions of becoming that person you see eating while driving. Except you know, with an entire drumstick in my hand.
They ONLY thing that prevented the degradation of my pride and my driver seat was that I had given in before the game even started. I know myself too well.
I opened up my bucket of fried chicken right there in Irving Street Kitchen and proceeded to eat half a fried chicken breast before getting out the door.
That first bite delivered everything I want from fried chicken. Comfort, perfectly sinful saltiness and a pinch of heat. Thank you, Irving Street Chicken! That’s what comfort food is all about. Instant satisfaction.
Giving in to my base instinct is the only thing that saved me from gnawing on a drumstick while driving up I-5.
In the end, the chicken did eventually make it home. At least half of it anyway. A good thing too. That evening, I had one more thing to pick up on the way home.
My husband who was waiting at the airport.
In the time it took for him to drop his bags and wash his hands for dinner, he saw this.
Turn directly into this.
He would have never known I ate half the chicken before making it home, were it not for this post.
I’m still not sure it’s safe to try to drive fried chicken home. But you know what. There is no way to prove or disprove this theory unless I give it another shot.
The next time I need a comfort food fix, I’m going online and ordering a bucket of fried chicken, some smashed potatoes, and a dozen buttermilk biscuits with whipped butter from Irving St Kitchen. Yes, a dozen. Don’t even get me started on how much I love buttermilk biscuits.
If you pass me outside, drumstick in hand, don’t judge. The I-5 is messy enough. Just doing my part to keep y’all safe.
This post was written after attending an invitation-only event.
Disclaimer: Occasionally, we are invited, not paid to attend parties, dinners, openings, wine tastings and press events. Those experiences make an appearance on ALOR too. Opinions are truthful and my own. Since I believe in not saying anything if I have nothing good to say, I reserve the right, at all times, to refrain from writing an article or sharing photography. If you work with equal integrity, we are open to working with you. Full Disclaimer