week 42: hill country chicken

fried chicken is an acquaintance of mine.
i've met it before, it says hi to me in the hallways, and i certainly have nothing against it... 
but in my wee days, when faced with the two children's menu staples of chicken fingers or mac and cheese,
my choice was always, always, always mac and cheese. 
something about the inconsistency of the breading from wansternaut to wansternaut is probably what did it.
{sorry, wansternaut is restaurant in wee me talk}
i simple never developed that intimate relationship with chicken fingers that i have with so many other foods.
but with today's visit to 
i finally have a trusted friend in fried chicken.
in making up for lost time {or in saving room for pie at the end}
i got a kids meal :-)
two everythingisbiggerintexas chicken tenders
can you pretty please substitute my fries for 
cheesey mashed tatoes
a buttermilk biscuit!
and an ample amount of honey mustard, hot sauce, honey, and ketchup. mmmmm sauce!
wow those are some juicy chicken tenders!!!
juicy and sweet and soft. and the protective shell was thick and crunchy and... oh it all tasted so fresh!
it transcended the impressions that my childhood chicken tenders had ingrained in me. 
so yummy. and even yummier was this sequence:
dip a chickens in hot sauce, then dip it in honey mustard, then eat it, and then immediately take a bite of the biscuit 
{to create the illusion of a biscuit sandwich}
the mashed tatoes were fine. i kept praying they'd turn into mac and cheese. but you can't eatem all. 
dessert was a baby pie!!
it's happening, it's really happening:
pies are the new donuts which were the new cupcakes until pies became the new cupcakes. 
and by commutative property:
pies are the new cupcakes.
whoopie!!!!!! {no pun intended, but get it? i thought it was clev.}
anyways, as much as i wanted to report back that i ate an apple cheddar pie,
i was way more in the mood for the 
whiskey buttermilk pie!
 it was adorable. almost like a lighter, soupier crack pie. 
the whiskey took me a second to register. but it's there. oh it's there.

dear hill country chicken,
thanks for making me a friend in fried chicken.
also thanks for being there for all of the people who think they want kfc but would rather enjoy a finer meat and a longer life. 



hill country chicken is on the corner of 25th and broadway
 {a block away from its mommy, hill country barbecue}