Promise this is the last time I’ll rhyme weekdays but I was far too pleased with my own hilarity not to. Our little patch of North London has been getting very trendy as of late, culminating in a Lucky Fried Chicken pop-up opening above the Grafton pub. It’s only around for a couple of weeks so we thought we’d better get in there and poddle down for a hipster Saturday lunch.
The pub itself is how all pubs should be, spacious yet cosy, not too up itself not to have a TV for sports, lovely bar staff and a good selection of beer-particularly local stuff like Camden Town (which is not from Camden Town at all but brewed metres away in the arches underneath Kentish Town West station). Even the toilets made me happy since the walls were covered in pictures from the local history book I am geekily reading.
Upstairs is set up like a proper chicken shop but is only open at dinnertime so we snuggled into a table downstairs next to a radiator with two pints of pale ale and ordered two “Individual boxes” and some fries.
Oh my word it was good, and a lot. It’s what KFC longs to be, massive fat, juicy bits of chicken, really tasty crunchy coating and proper hot crispy fries. The potato salad was nicely poshed up with a bit of gherkin. A piece of batter, chicken and coleslaw on the airline meal like bun made a mini sandwich from a dream.
Lucky Fried Chicken I salute you. You filled me up for the WHOLE day. I could not eat anything else. Really. Wherever this ends up as a permanent outfit (fingers crossed) we will be there with our stretchiest waistbands. And of course will be heading back to the Grafton. Big up to NW5.