Killer Fried Chicken at The Redhead

I’m working on a story about trend of Southern food sweeping the North. If it means I can get fried chicken like this at The Redhead in the East Village, I’m all for it. Continue sweeping, South!

The Redhead is little more than a bar, really, with a dining room in the back:

Boo and I sat at the corner of the bar.

We started with the bacon peanut brittle:

Spicy and sweet and smoky. Just what you want!

And the house-made pretzel with Kentucky beer cheese:

Soft and fluffy but with some chew and the cheese had a nice kick.

Then we shared this to-die-for salad:

I don’t think I’ve ever had a salad so good. Kale, apples and walnuts. The kale was so light it was almost effervescent. Yes, a green vegetable. Effervescent. I can not wait to order this salad again.

Foie over a Johnnycake with pickled peaches, I think! I can’t remember and it must have been a special because I don’t see it on the menu:

All I remember is that I don’t usually order foie seared like that — I only like it in a terrine — and this was out of sight.

The few seats behind us in the front of the restaurant:

Next, we ordered the shrimp and grits:

Holy hannah. The dish is called low country shrimp, anson mills antebellum grits, andouille sausage. It was heaven in every bite. The shrimp had pop, the grits were creamy and the sausage spicy.

And then, the masterpiece:

The fried chicken is brined for 8 hours, soaked in a buttermilk bath and fried just before it’s served. It’s pull-apart tender and moist, with bubbles of golden crunchy goodness and just a hint of spice. And I love that it comes with a lightly dressed spinach salad with strawberries and almonds.

It haunts my dreams.

We made friends with this lovely woman at the bar:

A terrific meal indeed.

When do we go back?

The 411 on The Redhead, 349 E. 13th St. New York, New York 10003. 212-533-6212,

Comments are closed.