Chinatown’s new fried chicken joint offers some crunchy comfort

Juke Fried Chicken

182 Keefer
604-336-5853
JukeFriedChicken.com
Open daily, 11am until late.

Perhaps fried chicken is not the first thing to come to mind when you think of Chinatown and what might be a good fit as far as restaurants go. Places like Bao Bei and The Keefer Bar seem more apropos, perhaps. But, the changing demographic of the neighbourhood has other ideas, and Juke Fried Chicken has obviously struck a deep and crunchy chord with the locals.

The large, steel-and-concrete space near Main Street has been tightly packed on each of three visits and the take-out game is non-stop. Obviously, the chicken has to take some credit. It’s good. The skin is crispy and thin, with a satisfyingly loud and shattering crunch as you bite in. Did I mention it’s crunchy? This is a good thing. It means the oil was hot enough so that you don’t end up with grease all over your fingers. The flesh is juicy, even the breast pieces. Flavour-wise, I could do with a little more seasoning and oomph, but texturally these are masterpieces. As a bonus, they are also gluten-free.

You can get the chicken to go from two pieces ($5.50) to 10 ($25), but I would also recommend eating in after 5pm so that you can try the rest of the menu. Sticky pork ribs are also available to go ($15 for a half-rack) and fall off the bone at the touch of the lips. Grilled mortadella and cheese sandwiches ($7) are oozy morsels of comfort. Biscuits (baked in-house) with whipped schmaltz ($6) are dangerously good. So dangerous, in fact, that we came back to make a meal out of them one night.

Cocktails are less impressive. While the chicken doesn’t hit any heat extremes, the rest of the food menu features a fair amount of spice and richness, calling for something sweeter and more refreshing on the libation side. Instead, we have cocktails that also feature spice or heavier flavours, like the spiced peach syrup in the tequila-based Macon Me Cry ($11). On their own, these drinks have merit and a tasting of several of the more pungent varieties would be fantastic for a drinks-focused night, but as accompaniments to the menu, they don’t allow the palate enough respite. An exception was the Ms. Jackson ($11), a vodka-ice tea blend with yuzu, but here, again, the strength of the vodka overshadowed what would have been welcome sweetness. A better choice would be to go with one of the beers or radlers, or the fizzy lemonade off the zero-proof list.

Dessert is limited to two options; doughnuts or a peanut butter chocolate bar. We went with the doughnuts on one visit, which were delicious but problematic to eat. The hot sugary exteriors are home to some of the squirtiest custard I’ve yet to try. A heads up would have been appreciated (there’s no indication on the menu that these are filled), so that we could have given a pre-emptive suck before biting in and causing cream to shoot across the table at each other. Would we order them again? Forewarned is forearmed, so yes, definitely.