One of Chicago's best fried chicken sandwiches is French

Garfield Park One of Chicago's best fried chicken sandwiches is French Bobby's Fried Chicken is a one-man operation. And it's worth seeking out. By Kevin Pang • Published 2 hours ago • Updated 17 minutes ago A few weeks ago, I got a DM on Instagram from a new restaurant. I get about a dozen of those every week, but this one intrigued me. The sender had trained at the Culinary Institute of America and apprenticed at The Inn at Little Washington , one of the country’s great restaurants. He’d spent five years in France (he fell in love with a girl there) before moving back to Chicago. Stream NBC 5 for free, 24/7, wherever you are. WATCH HERE So why did he reach out? He’d opened a place making French-style fried chicken sandwiches. That’s one way to get my attention. That man is Bobby Griffin , an American-born Loyola University graduate, and his shop is Bobby’s Fried Chicken . “Shop” is a loose word. It’s actually a shared kitchen inside The Hatchery , a food startup incubator located at 135 N. Kedzie Ave. in Garfield Park on Chicago’s West Side. Bobby’s Fried Chicken is a one-man show. Here’s how it works: you order online, then pick up in The Hatchery, or, if you’re close by, get it delivered. Most people eat their sandwiches right there in the lobby. Local Chicago Weather 2 hours ago How to track snowfall as parts of Chicago area face potential for heavy blanket NBC 5 Investigates 4 hours ago Tentative agreement could save troubled suburban hospital, physicians say It opened in July, and like most new businesses, it runs on word of mouth. In the early days, Griffin might get one order all day. But social media has ramped up business in recent weeks, and one look at those pristine, gargantuan, drool-on-your-screen sandwiches explains why. So how does French technique show up in a chicken sandwich? The seasoning. Griffin roasts potato skins, grinds them into a powder, and adds it to his chicken salt. It lends a coffee-and-bittersweet-chocolate depth. The Buffalo sauce. It’s a blend of Fresno chili and red bell pepper, with notes of sweetness, bitterness, and tang, but not much heat. The mayo. Americans call it mayo, but the French call it aioli. You can taste the difference in Griffin’s sandwiches. The jam. It’s slathered on the bottom bun for sweetness: caramelized onion on the Buffalo, apple on the classic buttermilk. The chicken. No breast here, only thighs—the superior choice—brined in buttermilk. The fries. He calls them “thousand-layer fries,” a nod to the French laminated pastry mille-feuille. Russet potatoes are sliced thin, pressed into a brick, cut into sticks, then deep fried. Maximum crunch and fluff, simultaneously. This article tagged under: Garfield Park