Friday, February 22, 2013

Two Sisters Kitchen

707 N Congress St.
Jackson, MS 39202
(601) 353-1180

I was recently down in Mississippi, and in my search for fried chicken, this place came highly recommended.


It's literally an old, run down house that had the bedrooms converted into small dining rooms. Very promising...



You serve yourself at a buffet. Nothing fancy, but plenty of fat and salt to go around.



You are pretty much on your own, nothing is labeled, but you can always ask the Southern belles that work there.


The fried chicken was the star, and I waited for a fresh batch to be delivered, straight out the fryer.


A bit of Louisiana hot sauce added some vinegary kick to the savory plate I had assembled.


The one thing I had never heard of was the "angel biscuit," a light and airy puck of dough that you could literally wring the butter out of. Delicious. Deadly. Decadent. From twelve o'clock, you have pickle, collards, fried chicken, grits, fried vegetables, angel biscuits, chicken fried steak with gravy, and a corn bread biscuit. Under the pickle are some black eyed peas. This is not the type of thing you can eat every day. But I would if I could. What the food lacked in color, it made up for in cholesterol. Delicious.


The chicken was crispy, with a well seasoned crust.


The chicken fried steak, while appearing as a gray mass, was salty, tender, and generally awesome. This is like a homemade version of eating at Cracker Barrel, without the discrimination.


These angel biscuits, though, were the star. They get their name from the folded design, you know, like wings. Smothered in gravy, they were incredibly addictive.


While the chicken wasn't the best I have had, it was still very good.


You also receive a complimentary dessert of choice. I asked what the pretty, young server recommended, and she said, "the bread pudding with bourbon glaze." Hot damn! This is one way to roll out of a restaurant.


This is some real-deal Southern food, and I wish I could eat like this more often. Unfortunately, the allure of the great Northeast hoagie is like a siren call, and I had to return home.

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