Cuisine: Soul Food / Fried Chicken
There’s something a little weird about an establishment that doesn’t trust its own patrons. Why else add a mandatory 20% gratuity to all bills no matter the size of the party? Also, a corkage fee? Which is either $5 a bottle of beer or $5 a case (the site makes it unclear)? At a BYOB restaurant? Are you expecting non-tipping eaters who bring an entire bar full of booze that the restaurant is expected to mix or something? It’s not as if the food prices were low, either, so nickel and diming people on top of it felt a little chintzy.
That out of the way, I do appreciate that they are a pork-free restaurant. As a non-pork guy myself. Not that it won’t pass my lips, mind you, but I wouldn’t ever order anything that is vaguely pork forward or mainly pig. Check. The dining room itself is small and for some reason made me feel like I was eating in Prince’s basement. I wouldn’t call the finishes “high-end,” and the bathrooms — from reporting from my dinner-mates only — were… janky. They could push down the music volume a skosh as well. We all love mid-nineties R&B, but not having to raise our voices to be heard over it. Perhaps it was intentional to cover up the relatively persistent beeping that may have come from the front door. Or maybe from the kitchen. It was hard to tell. I’m sound sensitive, so maybe this is just a me problem. And a Hipster Jr. Jr. one, too.
Let’s skip to the food. We started with the $9 corn bread. A little steep, yes, but honestly pretty damned good. It comes as a small loaf with a side of strawberry butter. Yes, that’s weird — and generally not my thing — but it added an interesting sweetness to an otherwise not-sweet cornbread. The lack of sweetness actually turned the Jr.s off, while it made it better for Ms. Hipster and myself. I think the kids like more of a corn muffin type thing, whereas we’re traditionalists. Granted, there may be some southern differentiation between a sweeter and a less sweet cornbread, but I have no idea. Suffice it to say, Ms. Hipster and I ate most of it. For my main I was oscillating between the BBQ chicken and Grandma Sarah “Boobie’s” Crispy Chicken. Something about the whole grandma thing (and maybe the boobie thing) led me to the latter. For my two sides, I got the mac & cheese and the candied yams. Because I’m a simp. I was little concerned after my disappointing apportioning experience at Cornbread across the street that the three-piece chicken dinner wasn’t going to be much food. What cuts would I get? Like one wing and two legs? Not for this grown-as man! But, no, it came with a breast, thigh and leg. All good.
So, I started with the thigh. And the skin was crisp and relatively flavorful and the meat tender and decently juicy. A good start. The breast, however, was a bit dry and less enticing in terms of its flavor profile. This is the usual downfall of fried chicken, of course. White meat is healthier, sure, but it comes with the danger of being a crappier version of its dark meat companion. So, win-lose. The most disappointing thing I’ve found at a lot of soul food, southern or fried chicken restaurants is the mac & cheese. It’s often watery or tasteless or, worse, mushy. See Pineapple Express for the quintessential example of all three. Even Urban Chicken — whose fried chicken is great — has absolutely garbage mac & cheese. But, no, Sweet T’s does it right. Served in a silver serving dish thing, the top is nice and browned, the macaroni cooked properly and the texture, taste and amount of cheese is all in balance. Granted, it’s not Ms. Hipster’s insane gourmet mac ‘n’ cheese with the gruyère and whatnot, but for a side I was totally onboard. The yams were fine, but unremarkable. Ms. Hipster did end up with the BBQ chicken and was not a huge fan. I think the sauce was too sweet for her. And, in all honestly, I think she was jealous of our fried stuff. She took most of it home and we made wraps and quesadillas out of it the next day. Hipster Jr. got the Grandma Sarah “Boobie’s” Crispy Catfish, which was kind of crazy looking. showing up as three thin, curled fried filets. I think he was really into the tartar sauce but the fish was classified by that worst of the Gen Z vernacular as “mid.” Both he and his sister ordered wedges, which were voluminous, but went mostly untouched. Visually, they looked a bit underdone.
All in all, I would chalk it up to an okay experience. One we — or at least I — left mostly full. I believe both Ms. Hipster and Hipster Jr. Jr. got the namesake sweet tea and were intrigued, but not blown away. Same went for the food. It was a bit expensive for what it was and the weird charges around the edges were a bit off-putting . I think in all we spent around $175 for four people. Which, frankly, felt a bit steep, especially considering there was no alcohol included in the cost. At that price, it feels most like a destination than a random-night-out kind of place. But the restaurant itself isn’t that type of joint. It wants to be casual, but it’s not really when you cost it out. It wants to be chill, but the decor and volume make it not so chill. Our server was nice and attentive, though it wasn’t crowded the night we were there. The food came out relatively quickly as well, but I worry that they’re not getting the repeat business at these prices that they might want, which is leading to nights where the crowd is more of a trickle of newbies like us than regulars. The food had high points and “mid” points, but doesn’t inspire a return visit unless they rethink some policies and perhaps rethink the balance of food-to-price value proposition.
387 Bloomfield Ave. – Montclair
973/500-3452
sweettseatery.com
