Finding the South in a Popeyes box
Finding the South in a Popeyes box
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I have 866 reward points from Popeyes.
The amount of Popeyes reward points I currently have is higher than my credit score.
Popeyes is good. Very good. Great, even. I have been bullied by so-called “friends” for what they see as a bizarre interest in substandard chicken. They argue that Popeyes’ bone-in entrees are more like congealed tissue, with an average Popeyes fry basket populated by etchings of actual chicken parts (Are you eating a leg? A thigh? A wing? Who knows!) The biscuits, too dry. The sweet tea, not sweet enough.
But like any cherished food, such as carrots dipped in applesauce or barbecue sauce with fish and chips—a delicious combo for those who have the range—Popeyes remains a first love for me. As the child of two Nigerian immigrants who did not and do not cook Southern food, I looked to Popeyes for an introduction to the cuisine.
Traditions of the South, particularly culinary traditions, were a fascinating mystery to me growing up.
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