Every piece of chicken gets dredged in our buttermilk-spice mix the morning of. None of it sits.
The biscuit recipe came off an index card from grandma Iris. We didn't change a thing.
If you can finish the family meal alone, your photo goes on the wall. Three people have done it. We're watching you.
We started as a six-stool lunch counter inside our parents' hardware store. The chicken was the side; the hardware was the business. We sold the hardware store and the chicken's been the business ever since — three locations, one menu, same as day one.