Portland’s Best Fried Chicken | Portland Monthly

A staggering stack of fried chicken and waffles at Screen Door.
Portland’s culinary world may reach lofty highs with its tasting menus and lavish bistros, but its foundations lie firmly in the low-brow: the cheesy stretch of a pepperoni pizza, the hit of sugar and hot oil in a fresh doughnut. Maybe it’s the inescapable rain or the blasé attitudes of the longtime locals, but Portland loves its comfort food, its culinary Klonopin. No food better fits this bill than fried chicken, whether it’s served out of a dive bar kitchen, a food cart, or a red sauce trattoria.
But fried chicken is quintessentially Portland not just because of its serotonin-boosting properties—like our food scene itself, it’s incredibly varied. Within city limits, you’ll find hot Nashville-style chicken sandwiches, drumsticks coated in Korean snow cheese, and full birds broken down and fried golden brown. Whether they originate in the American South or Southern Thailand, the crispy dishes below nail that balance of crackly skin and ultra-juicy meat. Dig into the full flock below.

The gargantuan sandwich at Basilisk can be a challenge to eat, with serious height thanks to a hearty dredge and thoughtful fry.
Basilisk
Kerns
To successfully bite into this Zipper food hall stall’s legendary Portland fried chicken sandwich, you may need to unhinge your jaw: Fried chicken thighs retain serious height on their brioche bun, nestled in a pile of pickles and cabbage slaw that add even more crunch. Basilisk was one of Portland’s earlier adopters of Nashville Hot Chicken, here drenched in a spicy cayenne sauce and served on a thick slab of Texas toast from the nearby Franz bakery. Customers can pick their heat preference but be warned: Basilisk will not accept returns or exchanges if you fly too close to the hot sauce sun. You can also order your fried chicken on a salad, which comes with thick ginger-garlic noodles, a soft-boiled egg, and a side of kimchi.

Big’s heavily seasoned dredge, bolstered with peppers and allium powders, plays off its Fresno chile marinade.
Big’s Chicken
North Tabor
Big’s is primarily known for its take on Alabama barbecue chicken, slathered in a tangy white barbecue sauce, but the fried chicken is no slouch: The chefs here marinate birds in a mild Fresno chili pepper sauce and then smoke them, infusing the chicken with a deeply smoky, peppery flavor. That’s before they soak in buttermilk, then get dunked in an oil bath for an umber hue. The light batter offers more crackle than crunch and is heavily spiced with peppers and allium powders. The pro move is to order it as a meal: a half or whole bird paired with fluffy, amber-fried jojos, and a slaw that balances creamy dressing with the fresh bite of cabbage. Just be sure to stock up on the white gold barbecue sauce for liberal dipping and dunking. Big’s Chicken is a popular takeout option, or you can tuck into dinner under the corrugated metal walls and eclectic collection of vintage toys.

FOMO’s Southern-style fried chicken uses an inventive—and gluten-free—blend of fava and garbanzo bean flours.
FOMO Chicken
Laurelhurst, Kerns
FOMO owner Sun Kim grew up eating fried chicken in his home country of South Korea before immigrating with his family to Atlanta, where he was introduced to the American South’s version of deep-fried poultry. At his Pod 28 food cart, Kim draws from both cuisines, serving boneless chicken bites in a sweet and spicy gochujang sauce, a sticky-sweet soy garlic sauce, and in a more American-style dry dredge. The process begins the same way, as thigh meat brines for 24 hours in a buttermilk bath. The Korean chicken is dredged in gluten-free potato flour and fried twice for that customary airy-crispy exterior, then tossed in sauce and served with rice, slaw, and pickled radish. The Southern is a little nontraditional, perhaps picking up a little hippie flair from the Pacific Northwest: A garbanzo and fava bean flour dredge gives the chicken a gluten-free crust and a nutty flavor, served with mashed potatoes, corn, and coleslaw. Beyond the pod, spot FOMO at Culmination Brewing, where it slings wings, boneless thighs, and sandwiches, along with some other entrées of the non-fried chicken variety.
Frybaby
buckman
A relative newcomer to Portland’s Korean fried chicken scene, Sunny Hatch’s Frybaby has already earned a dedicated following at Stark Street’s Lil’ America food cart pod. Raised in Texas, Hatch combines Korean cooking with Southern influences. Wings, drumsticks, and thighs bathe in an inspired batter that balances principles of both fried chicken schools: The combination of rice, potato, and tapioca flours keeps the chicken ultra crisp, with the added bonus of vodka—it evaporates faster than water, leaving the coating airy and light out of the fryer. Meanwhile, a dose of makgeolli, a Korean rice wine, almost behaves like buttermilk, flavoring and tenderizing the meat inside. You can get chicken dressed in a salty-sweet soy garlic sauce or spicy gochujang, but we love the snow cheese, a dusting that almost resembles a boxed mac and cheese powder packet—it’s slightly sweet, creamy, and cheesy, and goes especially well on the sandwich with its buttery bun and crisp radish.
Gabbiano’s
concordia
Italian cuisine doesn’t show up on fried chicken best-ofs all that often, but we think chicken parmesan qualifies. For our money, Gabbiano’s serves the best version in town, and evidently it’s not just us: The raucous Italian-American restaurant packs crowds into its wooden bistro chairs and out on its patio pergola nightly, serving more than 150 chicken parms a week. Chef Liz Serrone and her team pound chicken breasts flat before dredging and frying them in breading fortified with Italian herbs and Parmesan; they then broil them under a blanket of mozzarella and marinara. It arrives stretching beyond the plate, tender and rich and far more than a vehicle for a sweet Italian summer of tomato sauce and cheese. It comes with a side of garlic bread, and is substantial enough to split, especially along with spaghetti and a glass of Lambrusco.

The fried chicken at Hat Yai, inspired by the poultry sold in the Thai city of the same name, gets its distinctive flavor from a combination of coriander and fried shallots.
Hat Yai
buckman, vernon
Hat Yai isn’t the only Portland restaurant serving the southern Thai city’s iconic style of fried chicken, but it’s still the pinnacle, always thoroughly seasoned and consistently tender and moist. From Thai restaurateur Akkapong Earl Ninsom and industry vet Alan Akwai, Hat Yai coats its chicken in a light rice and tapioca flour breading, heavily seasoned with a fragrant blend of white pepper, cumin, coriander, and garlic. It’s finished with the traditional slivers of crispy shallots. The fragrant, tender chicken is delicious on its own but hits even harder when served in one of the restaurant’s combination meals, which come with a rich and savory Malayu-style curry and flaky, buttery roti. You can find it at the always-hopping counter service restaurants on NE Killingsworth and SE Belmont.

Jojo’s double-fried chicken arrives on buttery buns, complemented by things like Alabama white mustard sauce or sambal.
Jojo
Creston-kenilworth, pearl
Running Portland’s most buck-wild Instagram account is only half of what makes Jojo so recognized, even beyond city limits—The Food Lab scientist himself, J. Kenji López-Alt, has sung the praises of owner Justin Hintze’s fried chicken sandwiches. At a Powell food cart and an airy, plant-filled bistro in the Pearl, Jojo churns out orders of its namesake fried potato wedges (gluten free, double-fried, and spice-coated), chicken tenders, and popcorn chicken. But the headliners are the fried chicken sandwiches—colossal, juicy, boneless chicken thighs coated in a crinkly, crunchy exterior and served on pillowy butter rolls. Newcomers should start with the classic, simply adorned with Duke’s mayo and pickles. But second visits and beyond call for branching out—take, for example, the fried chicken melt, which sees Jojo’s fried thighs, American and cheddar cheeses, and coleslaw pressed between butter-grilled Japanese milk bread, sprinkled with chives.

Yes, it’s served at a Burmese restaurant, but the primogenitor of Rangoon Bistro’s fried chicken is actually found in Malaysia.
Rangoon Bistro
boise, richmond
While the majority of dishes at Rangoon Bistro are influenced by the cuisine of Myanmar, co-owners David Sai and Alex Saw drew from their time spent in Malaysia for the fried chicken. The chefs here mix gluten-free rice flour with curry leaf, turmeric, onion, and garlic for light, crispy, and aromatic batter. It leans toward milder, subtler flavors that are bolstered by the side of fluffy coconut rice and the house-made, crimson-colored hot sauce striking a nice balance of heat, sweetness, and acid. The dish is best partnered with an order of a bright and citrusy thoke, or Burmese salad, like the chickpea-tofu and cabbage salad with fish sauce and fried shrimp powder. You can find it all at the cozily industrial counter-service restaurants on SE 50th Avenue and Mississippi Street.

Reel M Inn’s dive bar fried chicken inspired celebrated Southern chef Sean Brock when he opened Husk in Charleston, South Carolina.
Reel M Inn
Hosford-Abernethy
The fried chicken at this tiny watering hole on SE Division is so good, it nearly disqualified Reel M Inn from our dive bar list. It also reportedly inspired fried chicken maven Sean Brock when he opened his famous Southern restaurant group, Husk. It’s debated what exactly makes it is so good—Brock claimed he saw the chicken chilling in the dredge before it was fried, but the team at the bar has said it’s dredged to order. However it’s made, it comes out looking like it was painted by Norman Rockwell: bubbly, rippled waves of tawny batter that clings to the bird through each deafeningly crunchy bite. It’s nothing fancy, nothing fussy, and usually takes upwards of an hour to get to the table. But that just means plenty of time for stiff drinks and a few games of pool in the charmingly cramped bar lined with eclectic fishing equipment.

Haters can hate over the fact it attracts Portlandia-nerd tourists, but Screen Door’s buttermilk fried chicken is popular for a reason.
Screen Door
Kerns, Pearl
Screen Door might bear the most responsibility for the unending debates around brunch lines in Portland. And while many a Portlander will rush to decry it as “overrated,” that certainly doesn’t stop all the other locals who line up on weekends for the famous chicken and waffles. It’s as classic Southern as it gets, buttermilk-battered boneless breasts stacked tall with one to three pieces on a sweet potato waffle. Not into chicken and waffles? Screen Door also serves its fried chicken as a savory dinner entree with mashed potatoes and tasso gravy, or as a sandwich with pickles and coleslaw on the brunch menu. You can find the fried chicken at both the cheery yellow East Side location and the swanky Pearl location with its hardwood floors and vintage tiled bar.
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