Since moving to the north, I have found more incredible food than I can even remember, but one piece of the pyramid has gotten lost in the shuffle. I haven’t found much southern kind of cuisine in the guilty fried chicken, BBQ, catfish, dumplings, and so much more.
Enid’s in Brooklyn recently satiated my desire for the time being. Stepping in, it was familiar to me in a few ways displaying the look and feel of most southern BBQ joints, the midwestern diner from Easy Rider, and rounded out by a Vegas style tiki dive bar. Taking a seat in the booth in the back, we finally finished studying the menu and ordered an array of comforting delicacies. The table was full of fried chicken, pulled pork, potatoes, and macaroni and cheese. The last time I felt that satisfied after a meal was most likely after a meal prepared by my grandmother, which as anyone would know is a feat not often conquered.