The smell of fried chicken is wafting through the air as I type this sentence out, as a family next to my table started eating fried chicken bought from a specialty restaurant. What is it with chicken? Seriously, I believe that chicken is universal comfort food. It is in serious competition with the noodles I love with a passion.
Our work group had dinner at the local chicken and waffles place near our office. Honestly, every time I go to that place, I start out wanting to order something else. Quite peculiarly, I end up ordering the two-piece pan-fried chicken. The meat is tender and juicy. The skin all crispy and tasty. I share that same fondness for that dish with a friend, whom I first shared that sentiment of always ordering the domesticated bird.
In an odd way, chicken can represent a unique comfort zone. When things aren’t going right, we end up with the chicken…or other dishes that can knock you into a moment, like in the movie Ratatouille, when you realize that the taste at the end of your tongue just smacks of what you’ve missing, events from your childhood or an earlier period in life. We leave thinking that we’ve had enough of it, only to come back for another serving at a later date because of the emotions it stirs up from deep down.
In my case, that can be the pancit canton, the lomi and the mami.