(I went to Popeyes for my first chicken sandwich experience this evening, and wanted to share my thoughts (and get y’alls opinion here.) I was going to publish this to the site, but A. It’s not remotely related to OSU #content and B. Please refer to point A.)
I’ll admit, I was a skeptic. When I saw lines backed up to Timbuktu for a chicken sandwich that wasn’t from Chick-Fil-A, I had my doubts about Popeyes and its new competing offering. Did it come with a cool toy in the to-go bag that Chick-Fil-A didn’t offer? Were they giving the sandwiches themselves away for free? Why in the world is my beloved Chick-Fil-A getting smashed by Popeyes on social media and, apparently, in real life? This is a place I’ve ate at maybe once in my life, and my only memory was that I don’t remember anything from it.
And forgettable restaurants aren’t places I frequent.
I told myself, ultimately, that I’d wait out the Popeyes hubbub. I resisted the long drive-thru lines in Tulsa, the guerilla marketing campaigns on social media, the urges from my friends that I just had to try it. “Very very good,” said my friend, Alex Elliott, who at this point has Popeyes chicken sandwich as his official blood type. “Different than Chick-Fil-A. Feels more home made.”
OK, I think. I think I’m sold. I wanted to experience this, but on my own time, and the time had to be right.
So Monday as I was dodging through traffic in Tulsa, gearing up for Monday Night Football, I thought, why not? (I’m positive my pregnant wife and mini schnauzer in the passenger seat disagreed, but YOLO.) Chick-Fil-A and Popeyes were both within my sight line, a perk of the area of town I live, so I opted for the latter. I had to see what the hype was all about.
So I rolled up to Popeyes to find that not only was there not an absurd line, there was no one in the drive-thru at all. I pulled right up, ordered one regular chicken sandwich, no drink, no fries, no biscuit. Just the sandwich. Pulled around, gave the cashier my card, and voila, my sandwich – in a tiny bag similar to the one Chick-Fil-A smashes its chicken sandwiches into – arrived. Toasty.
This was a bad sign for me, initially. OK, I think, you copied the chicken sandwich and the bag it comes in directly from CFA. Frauds!
That’s where the similarities ended, however. I opened up my bag to find a steamy chicken sandwich waiting for me, and the appearance was completely different than that of the Chick-Fil-A sandwich. More thick (thicc, as the kids say; by kids, I mean me), and also … more.
I chomped into the sandwich and the differences divulged themselves. A thick, hearty sandwich with a big bun gave way to a crispy chicken, and mayo filled my teeth as I bit down. I do not personally like mayo. I do believe it is disgusting on everything and anything. But the mayo completed this sandwich. It wasn’t intruding, like my mother endlessly trying in high school to find me a girlfriend. It was welcome. It was comforting. It was like how I imagine when Jennifer Aniston gives you a back rub. I felt peaceful.
As I munched further, the mayo and the crispy chicken and the hearty bun gave way to … a pickle. Ah-ha! Another Chick-Fil-A similarity. Only … this pickle was good. It was … long? I didn’t accidentally slurp it all down in one bite, as I do with CFA. It bent out and provided pickle flavor for two, three bites as I finished it off.
Do I have regrets? Absolutely. And my biggest regret? That I didn’t go enjoy this delicacy sooner. The sandwich itself is better than Chick-Fil-A. The chicken wasn’t soggy, like Chick-Fil-A. The overall product … was better.
Maybe Chick-Fil-A has better customer service. They have Chick-Fil-A sauce. They have the aura of being Chick-Fil-Frickin-A. It’s my pleasure to announce I’ve officially identified the premium product.
Popeyes, I’ll see you again real soon.
