Chicken Cottage

Ah, Chicken Cottage. It's the kind of place that seems to straddle the line between delightful discovery and frustrating chaos. When you walk in, the enormous seating area might lure you in with hopes of culinary comforts. For me, it was like a suspense thriller — would the crispy wings be exhilaratingly spicy or disappointingly stone-cold? Perhaps it depends largely on cosmic alignment rather than consistent quality control. On this visit, I experienced some of their chicken at its savory peak: well cooked, juicy, with an intoxicating aroma that hints of better days. Oh, and those four magical words – peri peri sauce – certainly left an impressive mark.

However, let's get real here. This isn't Jamie Oliver’s bistro in St James's Park; it's a chicken shop. You'll find tables often echoing past feats of grease, half-heartedly cleaned by frenetic yet bewildered staff. A friendly jack-the-lad who took my order behaved like he was performing a gracious public service simply by handing over the extra ketchup packets I clawed for. And sure, there's quirkiness to expecting the prices to align with your wallet and ending up faced with a monstrous bill that has no place without a Michelin endorsement. Yet, despite the occasional fornication of order and delivery, Chicken Cottage has somehow hung onto the authenticity card – sitting proudly somewhere halfway along the clucking spectrum from mere mortals to poultry royalty. — Milo Tastemaker