So I was cleaning out my drive and lo and behold I find this little gem. I wrote this little gem back in college and it's pretty cool seeing how much of an impact my Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles experience mad on me. I want to say that this was what sparked my love for pairing different flavors together. Enjoy!!
Leaving the fog dense city of Westwood a band of brothers ensued on a journey to discover the marriage of chicken and waffles that has so many Los Angeles residents relishing in taste bud heaven. Like many on this trip, this would be my first time visiting The House of Chicken and Waffles.Jittering with excitement I sputtered a stream of questions to a veteran of this establishment: How exactly do I order? Is there anything else on the menu? Do I eat the chicken and waffles together in one bite or separately? I continued like a broken record player until we arrived at our destination, my car mates joyfully springing from their seats relishing the opportunity to put an end to my probing questions. Rising from the side of the House stood their distinctive trademark logo of a rooster centered in front of a large waffle like a compass guiding the customer to a finger licking, lip smacking, pot of flavor. Contrary to its large sign, the place is quite small which posed a problem for our army of 20 that wished to be seated together in one table. Luckily the staff scrambled to provide a table large enough (in this case small tables pieced together) for all of us and quickly we were seated.
We got the menus and I was bewildered to find out that there wasn't just the one option of chicken and waffles but rather a multitude of menu items that included combos, sides (including their CBS named Best Mac n Cheese in Los Angeles), individual chicken pieces, and different combinations of chicken and waffles. As if I had just completed a Billy Blanks Bootcamp video, I was drained and fatigued by the time the waiter came by to take our drink orders. Thankfully my veteran fairy godmother guided me through the correct path of Roscoe's etiquette, firmly telling me to order the Sunrise, a combination of fruit punch and lemonade, that according to her would not disappoint. The Sunrise was delivered with the lemonade and fruit punch separated intended to be mixed by the recipient to resemble an actual sunrise. I took a sip and was knocked back by the sugar explosion in my mouth, like the feeling you get after emptying an entire pack of pop rocks in your mouth.
Unaccustomed to all that sugary goodness I quickly placed the drink down and prepared to place my order with the waiter that undoubtedly knew we were first timers from our constant and LOUD indecisiveness. I settled on the Scoes #1that included 1/4 of a chix and two waffles with my nondiscriminatory option of mixed (white and dark) meat. Soon afterwards, three large plates covered with syrup in shot glass sized containers were placed on our tables and were followed, after a couple of minutes, by our much anticipated food. My large, very large, plate arrived with two human head sized waffles topped with two ice cream scoops of butter and a monstrous serving of 1/4 a chix. Sorry to all the LA residents who wish to maintain their sun kissed surgically enhanced bodies by maintaining a strictly no carb, no meat, not calories diet but this is not the place to visit if you want to continue living your healthy lifestyle and don't wish to clog your arteries with fatty goodness. Unlike some of my fellow Los Angelenos I am a lover of all foods so I did not hesitate to dive in like a starving defensive linebacker attempting to eat everything in reach to "fuel" before a game.
The chicken, crispy and crunchy on the outside while juicy on the inside was a perfected concoction, like a Barry Bond's steroid induced home run that used to make the crow go wild and make for an unforgettable moment. The waffles, dry with minimal flavor, were not memorable and by themselves were a disappointment. However, the true marriage of taste bud ecstasy came when you combined a piece of savory chicken with the syrup doused waffles. The combination of sweet and savory at first confused my palate by questioning the taste of both breakfast and dinner in one bite. As the flavors set in, an eruption of taste left me begging for more. I became an addict to the taste of confusion followed by ecstasy. Despite my linebacker mentality I was sadly unable to finish my plate of food as my stomach pleaded with me to stop funneling in the large servings placed before me. I grudgingly obliged and looked at my plate with sadness. I was sorry to be leaving the remaining myriad of flavors untouched and proceeded to receive the check with the unfathomable task of figuring out how much each person owed.
I bid the House adieu and returned back to the haunted house looking city of Westwood drowning in misty fog.I was satisfied knowing that I could come back to find the roster and waffle circular sign guiding me to taste bud excitement like the yellow brick road guiding me back home.
Leaving the fog dense city of Westwood a band of brothers ensued on a journey to discover the marriage of chicken and waffles that has so many Los Angeles residents relishing in taste bud heaven. Like many on this trip, this would be my first time visiting The House of Chicken and Waffles.Jittering with excitement I sputtered a stream of questions to a veteran of this establishment: How exactly do I order? Is there anything else on the menu? Do I eat the chicken and waffles together in one bite or separately? I continued like a broken record player until we arrived at our destination, my car mates joyfully springing from their seats relishing the opportunity to put an end to my probing questions. Rising from the side of the House stood their distinctive trademark logo of a rooster centered in front of a large waffle like a compass guiding the customer to a finger licking, lip smacking, pot of flavor. Contrary to its large sign, the place is quite small which posed a problem for our army of 20 that wished to be seated together in one table. Luckily the staff scrambled to provide a table large enough (in this case small tables pieced together) for all of us and quickly we were seated.
We got the menus and I was bewildered to find out that there wasn't just the one option of chicken and waffles but rather a multitude of menu items that included combos, sides (including their CBS named Best Mac n Cheese in Los Angeles), individual chicken pieces, and different combinations of chicken and waffles. As if I had just completed a Billy Blanks Bootcamp video, I was drained and fatigued by the time the waiter came by to take our drink orders. Thankfully my veteran fairy godmother guided me through the correct path of Roscoe's etiquette, firmly telling me to order the Sunrise, a combination of fruit punch and lemonade, that according to her would not disappoint. The Sunrise was delivered with the lemonade and fruit punch separated intended to be mixed by the recipient to resemble an actual sunrise. I took a sip and was knocked back by the sugar explosion in my mouth, like the feeling you get after emptying an entire pack of pop rocks in your mouth.
Unaccustomed to all that sugary goodness I quickly placed the drink down and prepared to place my order with the waiter that undoubtedly knew we were first timers from our constant and LOUD indecisiveness. I settled on the Scoes #1that included 1/4 of a chix and two waffles with my nondiscriminatory option of mixed (white and dark) meat. Soon afterwards, three large plates covered with syrup in shot glass sized containers were placed on our tables and were followed, after a couple of minutes, by our much anticipated food. My large, very large, plate arrived with two human head sized waffles topped with two ice cream scoops of butter and a monstrous serving of 1/4 a chix. Sorry to all the LA residents who wish to maintain their sun kissed surgically enhanced bodies by maintaining a strictly no carb, no meat, not calories diet but this is not the place to visit if you want to continue living your healthy lifestyle and don't wish to clog your arteries with fatty goodness. Unlike some of my fellow Los Angelenos I am a lover of all foods so I did not hesitate to dive in like a starving defensive linebacker attempting to eat everything in reach to "fuel" before a game.
The chicken, crispy and crunchy on the outside while juicy on the inside was a perfected concoction, like a Barry Bond's steroid induced home run that used to make the crow go wild and make for an unforgettable moment. The waffles, dry with minimal flavor, were not memorable and by themselves were a disappointment. However, the true marriage of taste bud ecstasy came when you combined a piece of savory chicken with the syrup doused waffles. The combination of sweet and savory at first confused my palate by questioning the taste of both breakfast and dinner in one bite. As the flavors set in, an eruption of taste left me begging for more. I became an addict to the taste of confusion followed by ecstasy. Despite my linebacker mentality I was sadly unable to finish my plate of food as my stomach pleaded with me to stop funneling in the large servings placed before me. I grudgingly obliged and looked at my plate with sadness. I was sorry to be leaving the remaining myriad of flavors untouched and proceeded to receive the check with the unfathomable task of figuring out how much each person owed.
I bid the House adieu and returned back to the haunted house looking city of Westwood drowning in misty fog.I was satisfied knowing that I could come back to find the roster and waffle circular sign guiding me to taste bud excitement like the yellow brick road guiding me back home.
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