Chicken a la King

This does not happen in New York any longer:

In fact, has it ever happened before? Probably very rarely.

Last night we ventured out to 151st Street in Harlem to eat the magnificent, one and only fried chicken at Charles' Southern Kitchen. As we arrived, we noticed with not a little alarm that the place was closed. However, the takeout was still open. Mr. Charles himself was there and he kindly opened the dining room for us so we could eat our splendid takeout all by ourselves. While our mouths watered at the sight of the scrumptious offerings, we had a brief but acute panic attack for we did not immediately see the chicken. Yet sensing our desperation, our gracious hosts quickly guided us to the chicken, which is duly enthroned above the rest. We took our styrofoam containers laden with edible bliss and sat quietly to enjoy this blessing.

It was magical.

Fried chicken, candied yams and collard greens.

The chicken is king.

I bet the turkeys were smothered by that righteous chicken.