Chicken and Waffles

The first time I ate fried chicken and waffles on the same plate was here in Singapore, at the Southern (as in American; General Lee, slavery, the KKK, fried pickles) restaurant The Beast, near the Sultan Mosque in Bugis.

The chicken there was moist and greasy, the waffles buttery and sweet.

Sadly, the chicken and waffles I endured at Wildfire Burger at 313 Somerset was a sad, sad dish.

The waffles were light and tasteless, the chicken was dry and crunchy. I was unhappy. The tiny ramekins of butter and maple syrup were not enough to salvage this sad ghost of a good junk food classic. 

Rather than finish my watermelon beer and hit the road as I should have, I ordered the nachos.

That shit cost twelve fucking dollars!

What the fuck? No jalapeños, no salsa?


I should have paid heed to this omen and ate elsewhere. 


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I live in sunny California

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