Every town has a place like Chet's. Wood panelled walls. Local adve
rtisers on a placemat. Glass jars for your drink. A salad bar with iceberg lettuce, chocolate pudding, and cole slaw. Gravel parking lot. Sponsored beer/Coke sign out front. And walls covered with every type of knick-knacky, silk flowered, wood painted plaque or figurine that a garage sale threw up somewhere and some well-intentioned person thought would look good bunched together on the wood panelled walls. The place advertised a mean fried chicken dinner, so my Southern taste buds were piqued and primed to see if it could measure up to my standards. Fried Chicken is one of my favorite meals, and the calories never count if it's fried chicken on a Sunday...but it was Saturday so I threw calories to the wind and dug in.
This was advertised on the menu as a 'Swedish Fried Chicken' and you got a quarter on your plate. Dave and I couldn't possibly finish either one of our plates because we filled up on fried mushrooms, fried cheese curds, and fried onion rings plus a salad bar of actual vegetables. It was pretty darn good, even if the mashed potatoes and gravy were instant.
One of the best stories I heard about Chet's was that it used to have just a regular door knob on the front door. But, it got so greasy with people coming in and out that it had to be updated to a new handle that requires no twisting for entry or exit. Now that's some grease!
rtisers on a placemat. Glass jars for your drink. A salad bar with iceberg lettuce, chocolate pudding, and cole slaw. Gravel parking lot. Sponsored beer/Coke sign out front. And walls covered with every type of knick-knacky, silk flowered, wood painted plaque or figurine that a garage sale threw up somewhere and some well-intentioned person thought would look good bunched together on the wood panelled walls. The place advertised a mean fried chicken dinner, so my Southern taste buds were piqued and primed to see if it could measure up to my standards. Fried Chicken is one of my favorite meals, and the calories never count if it's fried chicken on a Sunday...but it was Saturday so I threw calories to the wind and dug in.
This was advertised on the menu as a 'Swedish Fried Chicken' and you got a quarter on your plate. Dave and I couldn't possibly finish either one of our plates because we filled up on fried mushrooms, fried cheese curds, and fried onion rings plus a salad bar of actual vegetables. It was pretty darn good, even if the mashed potatoes and gravy were instant.
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