Friday, May 15, 1998
Succulent chicken, waffles finger-lickin’ good
RESTAURANT: Discover sinfulness of soul food at local mama’s
kitchen
By Tommy Nguyen
Daily Bruin Contributor
For many, this review can only do a tremendous disservice:
Roscoe’s House of Chicken and Waffles (the one located on Sunset
and Gower) is already packed as it is, and certainly there is a
core family of regulars who are increasingly becoming irritated
that they now have to wait in line to get some home cookin’.
There may not be enough room for everyone at this mama’s
kitchen, but there sure is enough food – good lord is there enough
– and the wait in line, which usually forms even on weekend
evenings, only makes the food taste even more sinful.
Yes, for years now, Roscoe’s has been taking good care of
hedonists and vipers, feeding anyone who wants to escape the ’90s
culinary fascism of garden-burger stands and juice bars. And in
this eat-easy jukejoint of dietary licentiousness, no bigger than a
two-car garage and clad in homely wood panels, is where you will
continually find common folks enjoying their lives as they should.
(Sometimes you’ll see Salt N Pepa grubbing in their favorite corner
of the restaurant, or Quentin Tarantino, who gives the restaurant a
modest plug in "Jackie Brown.")
It may be troubling in the long run, but Roscoe’s has no right
to remain as an enclave for the hip and the stoned – not when food
is this good. Roscoe’s should be available to everyone, for don’t
we all have a right to life, liberty and the pursuit of succulence?
That’s right, succulence: that word we use from time to time as if
we knew what it meant.
Well it’s time to go to school: Choose the classic "Carol C.
Special" ($5.60) which consists of "one succulent breast and one
delicious waffle." At first, you too might snicker at the
adjectives, perhaps dismissing them as mere fiddle-faddle
superlatives used to spruce up the literature of the menu.
Wrong! So wrong. Truth is, there is almost no other way to
describe the chicken other than succulent, and yet at the same time
the chicken teaches us how to use the word correctly.
When the chicken breast, arguably the biggest breast you’ll ever
see, finally arrives at your table, its crispy, battered-dipped
skin practically shines in succulence – true, it’s the exorbitant
amount of cooking oil that’s causing the glare, but it’s a
succulent cooking oil nonetheless. Prepared southern style, the
breast is full of seasonings and spices you can see and trust.
Of course, the chicken breast goes beyond mere surface
succulency. For the true taste of succulence, you have to mine for
the riches that lie beneath the skin: The white meat is so tender,
so supple that there’s a milky quality to its texture, perhaps a
creaminess, maybe a buttery temptation – well, just think of dairy
products – while the sheer magnitude of the chicken’s plump
decadence promises that there will be more to come.
Curiously, Roscoe’s other chicken portions (wings, thighs, legs)
aren’t as inordinately jumbo as the breasts, though they’re still
pretty succulent in their own right. "Herb’s Special #4" ($9.10)
pours a mountain of gravy on half of a chicken, but that’s only
recommended for people who truly have nothing to lose in life.
The waffles are the best in town, good any time of the day,
served with sweet whipped butter and a cup of smooth maple syrup.
Roscoe’s menu describes the waffles as delicious (luscious is
perhaps closer to the truth), and they provide a perfect
counterpart in the "Carol C. Special": The waffles offer a
momentary recess from the get-down-to-business succulence of the
chicken. It’s a common practice of the natives at Roscoe’s to douse
both the chicken and waffles with the maple syrup, and it’s
recommended that you too join the community.
Other items deserve their own spotlight, from the hearty rice
and beans to the fresh potato salad, from the chicken burgers to
the corn bread.
The desserts also know how to steal the show – ask for extra
whip cream when you order your sweet potato pie or peach cobbler.
Roscoe’s smothered potatoes (soft chunks of potatoes with onions
and lots of gravy) is also a crowd-pleaser, but they do pack a
wallop, perhaps a bit too heavy for many people. The menu says that
a chicken salad does exist somewhere on the premise, and order it
if you must, but that’s a bit ridiculous.
A few months ago LA Weekly printed an article of how Roscoe’s
was financially bankrupt, which gave a scare to many people: It
would have meant the death of succulence this side of the Bible
Belt. But Roscoe’s authorities have said that they’re not closing
their doors anytime soon. That’s good news: For in the sometimes
suffocating health-consciousness of Los Angeles, there is still a
small population out there who needs a place to breathe. It’s sad,
but so many times we are judged by others by what we eat.
Fortunately, on our supreme day of judgment, Roscoe’s Chicken and
Waffles has come to call not the righteous, but sinners.
MICHAEL ROSS WACHT/Daily Bruin
A chef prepares Roscoe’s infamous waffles.