Happy Friday!

I couldn't resist. Check out the Ray LaMontage of chicken yodeling.

All my love-

Bibby.

My first, not so first, white trash Friday.

If you live in LA, you're probably familiar with first Fridays. If you don't live in LA or aren't familiar with this hipster shin- dig, please come for a visit and I'll take you. 

Every first Friday of each month in Venice, the city celebrates the night by keeping businesses open late, they bring out a mess of food trucks, and they have a ton of art on Abbot Kinney Blvd. Abbot Kinney is known, by GQ Magazine, as the coolest block in America. Actually, I would say the coolest block in America is where the guy below lives, but that's why I don't write for GQ. (Abbot Kinney still rules though).

Step off Gosling, he's cooler than you.

So I met my guy friends at a bar called The Other Room. Bars are notorious for having lines wrapped around the block on First Fridays, but luckily my homeboy knew the bouncer, so we walked right in. The bar was dark, packed, and had big beers, so it felt like home to me. 

That's me on the left.

It was midnight and I was turning into a pumpkin, so it was time for me to bounce. After a night of drinking, I usually like to have late night food of some sorts. A drumstick, a burger, a hot dog, a little this... a little that. Unfortunately, to my surprise, the food carts were closing up shop. NOOOO!!

My exact facial expression when there were no food trucks available.

As I'm pitching a fit down Abbot Kinney, I spot a dirty, beat up RV where there were small group of people gathering. ALAS! THE WHITE TRASH FOOD TRUCK. I can't really tell you what else is on the menu because my eyes immediately darted to "the white trash chicken and waffles". They only had two waffles left, so Tillery and I scooped them up. What this consisted of was two, tempura battered, maple syrup soaked chicken breasts, wrapped in a waffle, that was also soaked in maple syrup, like a burrito. Yes. Hallelujah. 

That's hot sauce. 

I proceeded to dunk my chicken and waffle thingie into the hot sauce with each bite. It was heaven. 

I'd marry it... if it would sign a prenup. 

The chicken was tender and crispy and the syrup made it melt in my mouth. The waffle was a great addition. I could taste the real butter they melted on top of it. The combo together was magical... like the day Harry Potter became Harry Potter. 

I devoured it in 3.5 minutes flat. I actually tried to Google and search for this White Trash Food Truck so you guys could follow it, but there's no sign of it... anywhere. Was I dreaming? Did it even exist? Was it the Chicken, the Waffle, and the Wardrobe? I'm not sure... 

Who are they? Where am I?

I guess this means, I'll have to find this secret chicken haven on wheels and report back. In the meantime, I wish you all the best in your quest for something tasty. 

All my love,

Bibby.

Sshhh... this is actually a secret.

I'm only going to talk about this once and then I'll never speak of it again. I'm so completely spoiled rotten by the people that love me, that I have to give them a personal shout out. 

Prettier than that Efron kid. 

These beauties were made for me by the executive chef at an establishment I call home, Little Bear in Downtown LA. These cannot be found on the menu, so don't even ask. Little Bear is a traditional Belgian cafe that pours the best beer in town and boasts a mean sausage (ha). 

For months now, I've been pushing to get fried chicken on the menu. Crickets... not happening. But when I tell you that Chef Vidal can cook with his eyes closed... I mean it. He won't tell me the recipe and doesn't even like to talk about these wings.  He can hold a secret tighter than a fart. 

I won't tell anyone...

Go to Little Bear, drink, and have a good time. Tell 'em I sent ya. 

All my love,

Bibby. 

My (not so) Wild Tuesday

Well, I did it. I said I wouldn't, but I did because they were cheap and I talked my close friend, Dave Briggs, into going with me. I hang my head in shame just typing it. The horror...

I WENT TO BUFFALO WILD WINGS FOR $0.50 WING NIGHT.

I didn't want to review BWW, nor did I want to review any other commercial fried chicken restaurant, but I had to confess. I just couldn't keep it from you guys. Lying just ain't right. 

So on Tuesdays, every BWW nation-wide has $0.50 wing night. Having this amazing discount is a great way to drive business... if your product is good. Beggers can't be choosers, so I can't hate on the wings too much. 

Bless their hearts.

If you've been to one BWW, you've been to them all. Loud, Top- 40 music blares from the 237 speakers, while over-sized TV's play every game, but the one you want to see. 

Duke, who? I'm gettin' outta here!

After mulling over the list of fourteen different sauces for the wings (boneless are not discounted), I chose the spicy garlic, parmesan garlic, and salt & vinegar. Lots of  garlic, I know, but they say its good for ya. They, meaning my grandma, Docia (pronounced dough-sha). 

You get what you pay for. 

I knew the wings would be considerably small because of the discount, but I didn't know that they would lack flavor and overall moisture. The spicy garlic were my fav, because they were drenched in the sauce. The sauce was tangy, slightly spicy (like Texas Pete spicy), with a punch of garlic. I assumed the salt & vinegar wings would taste similar to lemon pepper, but I was disappointed. I LOVE lemon pepper wings because they're super salty. The seasoning on these wings had actually fallen off the chicken! WOMP. Don't even get me started with the parmesan garlic... moving on (flips hair). 

Smile occured pre-bite.

Let's be honest, they weren't the worst and they weren't the best. If you're having a party and you need 100 mediocre wings for cheap, go for it. I'll probably go back to B- Dubs, but only if they use this guy as their '50 Cent' mascot at the Hollywood location on Tuesdays. 

All my love- 

Bibby.

I asked for something good...

I've been packing my lunch to work lately because I'm saving up for a Hawaiian vacation in November (every little bit counts). You'd be surprised at how much money you save. My office doesn't have a microwave yet, so I couldn't bring leftover chicken for lunch. 

So this is what I'm eating. 

Woof. 

Flashback of my ma not giving me the good stuff until I finished these pesky fellas. 

Exactly, man. Exactly. 

All my love,

Bibby. 

Off the beaten path...

I'm sure everyone assumed that my first blog post would be about Roscoe's Chicken, since I live in LA. Well, I'm not gonna do that. Don't get me wrong- Roscoe's is a staple in the LA chicken community. It was brought over to the west coast from Harlem in the mid 1970's, so you know its legit. 

Barack O-Roscoe's 

Because I wanted to have a mini- Monday night adventure, I decided to go off the beaten path to a far, far (like 10 minutes away), magical place called KOREATOWN. 

I haven't spent any time in Koreatown, which is unfortunate. Between the plethora of All You Can Eat Buffets (yummo), Korean BBQ spots, and karaoke bars, it has everything you need for a fab, date night vacay. Not to mention, the prices are unbeatable. 

I stumbled upon my chicken bulls-eye and, VOILA! Bibby, meet KyoChon. KyoChon, meet Bibby. I'd never heard of KyoChon before tonight, but there are a few California and New York locations. My standards were high, considering I rarely eat at chain restaurants. Not because I don't like them, but mom and pop's always make you feel like you're at home, ya know?

When I walked in, the first thing I noticed was the good, hood rap music. I think the song playing was Waka Flocka Flame- Round of Applause. If I shut my eyes real tight, I'd think I was in Atlanta. The vibe was young and fun, which is always a great atmosphere for beasting on chicken. I also noticed that for a counter- order restaurant, the decor was modern, trendy, and clean. 

2012 futuristic chicken.

I really liked the fact that they only use free range chicken from local farms. It helps you sleep a little better at night if you know where your chicken came from. 

"I like my chicken like I like my women- natural."- Anonymous

I walked up to the counter and noticed that there were two signature flavors: soy ginger and hot and sweet. I went with the soy ginger because I don't particularly care for anything sweet on my chicken. I noticed at the counter, you can get an additional 10% off of your meal if you like and check into their Facebook page. The 5 wings came to $5.43 including tax. Um... done and done. Affordable and all- natural? I love this place already. Might I add, they have free delivery for folks that live within a certain proximity AND you can text in your order for pick up. 

The chicken did, in fact, cross the road... quick, fast, and in a hurry. 

The unveiling. 

The anticipation.

After the first bite, I knew that these were going to be delish. The combination of soy and garlic was so savory. The soy made them just a little bit sweet. I was surprised that I actually liked the hint of sugar. The meat was super tender and moist (I hate that word, but for the sake of the chicken...). The best part was the size of the wings- I like drumsticks better than flats and they were perfect! 

I peeped a Korean couple eating their wings with chopsticks. If you're going to eat, you might as well eat in style. I'm not that technical when it comes to grubbin' so I went for my usual, pincher- finger method. 

That chicken didn't stand a chance. 

And before I knew it...

Graveyard. 

If you live in LA, check out KyoChon in Koreatown. They're open until 3am, so you can get your late night chix fix. 

Note: Always remember to wash your hands after eating wings. The last thing you want to do is to have stinky fingers and burning eye balls. 

All my love,

Bibby.

A southern-fried welcome.

I remember my summers in North Carolina like they were yesterday. When I was a kid, my family always had our weekend ritual. I would help my ma wash clothes in the morning. We'd hang them on the line in the backyard for the humid, summer air to dry them before bedtime. I remember the way my bed linens smelled and felt against my skin... like cucumber, sun- lit clouds .

My sheets were Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

My dad would cut grass every Saturday afternoon and I followed closely behind him with my Fisher Price Bubble Lawn Mower in an attempt to earn my keep.

Girl in above image is not me.

Ma always made my favorite meal as a reward for winning weekly spelling bees: fried chicken, pinto beans with hamhocks, and biscuits. The smell of the fried goodness is a scent that brings me back to the days when things were a little more simple. I strive to attain the happiness that I possessed in my earlier days. I also strive to find the chicken that brings me closer to the feeling I felt when I was snaggletooth, in my ma's lap, with a death grip on a drumstick.

Grease stained fingers.

This will be a detailed account of my travels in search of the perfect fried chicken. I will attempt to scour my current city of Los Angeles and, god willing, many others around the country to find the chicken holy grail. By the end of this journey, I will no doubt begin to sprout feathers and lay eggs of some sort.

Where in the world is that CHICKEN?! Carmen, do you know?

In the meantime, I will also be giving you a little peek into my nutty, whirl- wind of an existence that is Bibby.

I encourage you all to find the things that make you happy in life... they make those darker days a little more tolerable. (Get it? Darker... like dark meat? Ah, forget it.)

All my love,
Bibby.