Fried Chicken and Bread (and pickles?): the Ascent of the Chicken Sandwich

When I was a kid, I did not like burgers.

Don’t hate me. I realize how shocking that must seem to some of you. I know better now of course. At the time, my experience with burgers was pretty much a) the kind your mom makes for you where she adds egg and bread crumbs and onions and green peppers and essentially makes it into a little meatloaf (I didn’t like meatloaf either–you can yell at me about that another time) (sorry Mom) or b) fast food burgers. And when I say fast food burgers, I mean McDonald’s.

It may be difficult to remember now, but there was a time, I’m talking basically mid-to-late 70s, when McDonald’s menu basically looked like this:

• hamburger
• cheeseburger
• quarter pounder
• quarter pounder with cheese
• big mac
• filet-o-fish (sometimes)

So I developed a taste for Big Macs, since they put enough stuff in there to distract me from the fact that I was eating a terrible fast food burger.

Then, when I was in sixth grade, we moved from the south suburbs of Chicago down to Quincy, IL, where we discovered Hardee’s.

Don’t get me wrong: Hardee’s also did terrible fast food burgers. But Hardee’s also had non-burger options. Hardee’s had hot ham and cheese sandwiches. Hardee’s had roast beef sandwiches. And most importantly, Hardee’s had chicken sandwiches, in this case a fried chicken breast filet with mayonnaise, tomato, and lettuce on a bun.

As Quincy gained more fast food franchises, the chicken sandwich became my standard order (though I’d pick off the tomato, if it came with one). Burger King’s had very peppery breading but was a hoagie-shaped patty instead of a filet on a bun. Wendy’s was good (especially the spicy chicken) but overpriced (but you could generally grab them for free when you worked there and they’d been sitting in the warmer too long). You could even get them at most of the taverns around town as well, if you wanted something other than a tenderloin or a horseshoe.

Eventually even McDonald’s added a chicken sandwich or two to their menu but by that time, I’d outgrown the dislike of burgers and had instead developed a dislike of big fast food chains in general (though sometimes, if you’re in a hurry or on a road trip, you take what you can get). I still like a chicken sandwich occasionally but I don’t obsess over them the way I used to.

When Chick-Fil-A opened in Chicago, I tried it once. It was OK–not good enough to make up for the fact that any money I spent there would support causes I dislike, so I haven’t been back–but I was surprised by the condimentation. Two measly pickle chips and that’s it.

That’s more common than I knew. Is it a Southern thing? Seems like the new crop of fried chicken sandwich places are pushing the pickle, despite anything else you put on there. I tried a couple of the highly-touted new chicken sandwiches in Chicago recently, and both of them were pickle-crazy.

First off was Do-Rite donuts, my favorite of the new “hipster” donut joints that started proliferating around Chicago several years ago. Their first location, across the street from Daley Plaza in downtown Chicago, was a simple, tiny, donuts-and-coffee-only affair. Last summer, though, they opened a second location in Streeterville, a ritzy area of Chicago’s near-north side extending from the Magnificent Mile to the lake, and they added chicken sandwiches to the menu.

I had read that Do-Rite offers a regular or a spicy breaded chicken breast filet but it does not appear that that is the case. Instead, there’s a single type of chicken with several topping combinations. So though I intended to order a spicy breast in the Original configuration, that ended up being interpreted as spicy AND original. So I ended up with two sandwiches, which, let’s be honest, is not the worst fate.

The Original consists of the chicken breast with pickle mayonnaise, lettuce, more lettuce, and pickles. Some of the lettuce was pretty fibrous and crunchy–maybe some cabbage got mixed in? I don’t know. The chicken was good, but I think they went overboard on the greenery, and I’m still not quite feeling the pickles.

The spicy uses jalapeno aioli instead of pickle mayo, but otherwise is much the same sandwich. Less lettuce in this particular case, but almost entirely the tough and fibrous stuff. Also, I let this sit in the foil too long and the breading had turned to mush. Do-Rite’s sandwiches are probably really good, and they’re definitely very affordable for the area. I should go back and give them another shot soon.

The next day, I checked out Leghorn. One thing that I liked, reading about them, is that they offer the option of a chicken thigh, the tastiest piece of a chicken, instead of a chicken breast in your sandwich. Also, you can get the sandwich as “Nashville Hot” instead of regular.

Real Nashville hot chicken is amazing. They take the hot, freshly fried chicken and work an oil-based spice mix into the crust, resulting in breading so spicy that eating it takes you beyond the normal spicy endorphin rush and into exhilarating pain. I literally went through a 6-pack of Yuengling washing the chicken down the first time I tried it. They serve it on white bread with the ubiquitous pickles and usually some sides as well. I’ve only been back to Nashville once since then, and enjoyed my 2nd trip to Bolton’s even better than the first, but there are several other hot chicken purveyors in Nashville, including Prince’s, the originator of the style, and I should probably try one of those next time I’m in the area.

But back to Leghorn–they bill themselves as the anti-Chick-Fil-A, donating money to organizations supporting gay rights, and good for them. I stopped by the newer River North location, in the little building formerly occupied by the Ohio House Motel’s diner/coffee shop.

Leghorn’s ordering process involves choosing breast or thigh, regular or Nashville Hot, biscuit or bun, a sauce, then any optional (upcharged) condiments. I ordered a regular chicken breast and a Nashville Hot thigh, both on buns, both with mayo, both with tomato and lettuce.

Both of them came with pickles too. I did not ask for pickles.

These sandwiches were bigger and seemingly assembled with more care than the sandwiches from Do-Rite. On the other hand, just one of these sandwiches cost as much as both the sandwiches from Do-Rite had.

The breast did a good job filling the large homemade bun, and the sandwich maker did not go into a frenzy while adding the lettuce, a definite bonus. What is this obsession with pickles though?

The thigh was smaller, but the more flavorful meat made up for the size difference. I’m not sure Leghorn’s version of “Nashville Hot” quite matches the real thing–they drizzle a bit of hot sauce over the top of the chicken and I don’t think it integrates quite as fully as the full coating they do in Nashville–but the few bites that contained a good hit of that sauce were damned hot. It has potential.

There are plenty of other great chicken sandwiches to try in Chicago. I began to get curious though. To me, fried chicken is a perfect food, like bacon, and in a sandwich I dress it minimally, as with a BLT. If you get too fancy, you are just covering up the beauty of fried chicken. On the other hand, I know some people will dress their chicken sandwiches like they do a fully loaded hamburger. My mom likes hers with ketchup, pickle, tomato, and lettuce, an obscure bit of knowledge from my days working at Wendy’s that has somehow lodged itself in my brain.

Some people even like cheese on a chicken sandwich. There’s something about the gluey texture of partially melted cheese on the crisp surface of a piece of fried chicken that just doesn’t jibe for me. That’s a mystery that I’m not ready to tackle.

I was interested in finding out what people liked on their chicken sandwiches though, so I put together a very small focus group–my family–to test it out. I soaked some chicken thighs (my house, my rules) in a buttermilk brine for a few hours, and set up with a seasoned flour (nothing fancy, paprika, cayenne, garlic salt and a little thyme) and egg wash breading station.

Using one dry hand and one wet hand, I used the flour-egg wash-flour method to bread the thighs.

Then I shallow-fried them in two batches of three, using a 10″ cast iron skillet.

Each batch took about 15 minutes. The first batch stayed warm in the oven while the second was cooking, and I ended up with a pile of tasty fried chicken.

I got out a variety of burger-style condiments and toppings

Then I called my family in to the kitchen one by one and asked them each what they would like on their sandwich.

Our youngest, Ian the 8 year old, asked for mayonnaise and ketchup, but specified that they should not both be on the same bun. Some mild form of food-touching phobia? I don’t know. That bugged me when I was a kid too but I got over it. Probably nothing to worry about–I made the sandwich the way he asked and took a photo.

Max, our 14 year old, wasn’t sure what to put on it and requested some guidance, which kind of went against what I was trying to do. But I assured him there weren’t really any wrong answers, and he ended up asking for lettuce and just a bit of yellow mustard.

Damian, our 17 year old, insisted on making his own, and it was the most elaborate of the sandwiches. He put mayo on both top and bottom buns, mustard on the top, hot sauce on the bottom, and then hot sauce and pickles on the chicken thigh itself.

Mindy, my stunningly attractive wife, allowed me to assemble her sandwich. She requested mayo, pickles, tomato, lettuce, and a bit of yellow mustard.

I went with my standard mayo, tomato, and lettuce combination.

It was everything I’m looking for when I think of chicken sandwiches, but as I ate it, I started to regret not pulling the trigger on the garlic aioli and going with the mayo instead. I was also feeling hot sauce envy over Damian’s sandwich. What kind of jerk serves fried chicken without hot sauce? All was not lost though–there was a sixth and final chicken thigh left over.

Was it everything I hoped? The garlic aioli was great, and the hot sauce was appreciated. I heard universally positive reports back from the rest of the family about their sandwiches as well. I would really like to learn how to make that great Nashville Hot chili oil though.

The real question is, did I learn anything about chicken sandwiches? I learned they’re still pretty great. We’re talking about two of my favorite things, sandwiches and fried chicken, formed together into one Voltron of deliciousness. I’m not sure I’ll ever get the pickle thing–I’m not against it really, it’s just not for me–but it doesn’t really matter. Whatever you put on them, if the chicken is good, fresh, hot, and fried well, the sandwich will be good.

Just don’t forget the hot sauce.