The promise of phenomenal fried clucks brought The Astronomer and me to Honey’s Kettle in Compton. While the Culver City branch is quite a bit closer to home, I’ve had my heart set on visiting the original location since moving into town. I love how book research has broken down every logical excuse, from time to distance to money, and dwindled my to-eat list to nil in the process. No corner of the city is too far or inconvenient when it comes to seeking out the very best.
Orders are placed at the front counter and are ready to be picked up a few minutes later. After grabbing a seat at one of the orange tables, we peeled back the layers of wrapping and dug right in.
Vincent Williams, the proud owner of Honey’s Kettle, guards his fried chicken recipe close to the vest. He prepares the secret batter off site and delivers it daily to each location, where the kitchen adds water, mixes until smooth, and hand batters the chicken as orders roll in. Every thigh, wing, breast, and leg is submerged in this downright magical mixture before meeting the hot oil in a stainless steel kettle drum.
