trashy-amazing lunch

For about 2 years, my friend has been telling me about a certain sandwich he likes.

Every time I'd hear about it, my stomach would flip in anticipation.

But I've never been able to experience it. 

Until today.

And it was Worth. The. Wait.

Here it is: The glory that is chicken biscuit. Or, if you're cool like us, "chicken biz."

Freshly baked buttermilk biscuits.

Fried chicken! 

The not-so-secret ingredients.

 Split the biscuit, and top it with butter. Lots of butter.

 

Fargo's own Julia Child shows us how it's done.

Throw a big piece of chicken on top of the butter.

 

Drizzle with some Frank's Red Hot. Lots of Frank's.

 

 Drizzle the entire thing with honey.

(This is what makes the meal.)

 The finished product. Dripping with amazing.

You should know - it looks neat, but looks can be deceiving. 

Because our friends discovered the original sandwich at a delightfully down-home place 

in New York, we kept our meal simple, as well. You can see the paper plates above.

We also used Solo cups + Sharpie.

(One for everyone - and E's matched.)

Napkins, schmapkins. Pass me the roll of Bounty.

 And, remember when I said it was deceptively neat? 

Things get crazy.

You eat. Dip it in the Frank's/honey mixture. Eat more. Add more honey.

Repeat.

Oh man, oh man. It was so good!

And messy.

So messy, in fact, that Frank's was discovered on my forehead 40 minutes later. 

And on the other side of my forehead 10 minutes after that. 

And there may or may not have been some in my eye.

On this, the nicest day of the year so far, I am too full to even think about going outside for a walk.

Instead, I'm going to wrap up this entry and rest contentedly on the couch - and hopefully
drift into a chicken biz sleep. No regrets.