The World’s Perfect Sandwich?

An expertly deep-fried piece of buttermilk-coated chicken just might be the tastiest food on the planet. Texturally, it plays to a delicious duality, with a crunchy outside that traps the soft, hot, and moist flesh inside. Flavor-wise, it’s a blank canvas for chefs to play with the various herbs and savory spices that can be both mixed into the batter and soaked into the chicken itself. So with that tactical meat advantage, it’s of little wonder why so many restaurants now serve a fried chicken sandwich on their menus, a trend I’ve been exploring from Montecito to Manhattan in recent years.

My modern foray began back in 2013, when The Shop Café opened on Milpas Street and started serving their General Sanders, whose chicken gets topped with apple slaw, sweet and sour carrots, and spicy mayo, served on a soft bun, which seems to be the fried meat’s ubiquitous bread buddy. The $10 sando went down way too fast, a hazard that’s become common for these treats, whose salty side is usually cut by the freshness of crisp veggies. Last year, I stumbled into similar joy at The Honor Bar in Montecito, whose Ding’s Chicken Sandwich adds Asian slaw and baby Swiss to the mix. I’ve recommended it to quite a few people since, and though it’s not cheap at $16 — it is Coast Village Road, after all — not a soul has expressed disappointment.

Soon, I couldn’t visit a restaurant and not order this dish if it was on the menu, so I started wondering if there was something in my taste-bud DNA that predisposed me to this affinity. Then I remembered Carl’s Jr.’s Bacon Swiss Crispy Chicken Fillet Sandwich, a favorite of mine growing up, when I thought fried white-meat chicken might be healthier than red-meat burgers. (Not necessarily, although Carl’s now sells burgers that exceed the 1,000-calorie mark with gusto.) But as my fast food visits drastically slowed during college and are all but nonexistent now (In-N-Out doesn’t count, right?), my love for this American classic was forgotten.