LA: Destinations: Bird On A Wire: Missin’ My Rotisserie

DESTINATIONS: BIRD ON A WIRE: MISSIN’ MY ROTISSERIE
By Johnny Angel

LA Weekly, CA
Oct 6 2005

L.A.’s many immigrants may well have been lured here by our
Mediterranean-like climes, and, if so, one of their greatest gifts
to us has to be the proliferation of that underlooked SoCal staple,
the rotisserie chicken. Lebanese, Armenians and Greeks scarf down much
of the slow-turning fowl on a spit, and that specialty now forms as
big a part of the local (and protein-heavy) diet as the more visible
enchilada.

>>From the sturdy if unspectacular birds of California Chicken and
KooKooRoo, to the exotic mom-and-pops extolled below, rotisserie
chicken truly is a local phenom. Residencies and trips to San Fran,
Boston and other points inland have reminded me how their local
variations lack the crispiness and flavor found in our homegrown
restaurants. My last sojourn to New England revealed that their
version was more like dry wall than white meat. Sure, there are
gyro joints and shawarma places and kebab palaces everywhere there
are immigrants from lower Europe and Asia Minor, but somehow, these
greasy and gloomy joints seem to belong to the rainy parts of the
map. The L.A. chicken shack is clean and lean and not too mean –
just as we’d like to imagine ourselves.

There are too many to name, so I have to stick with those that are
at the top of my list – that is, the ones currently draining my
wallet/slaking my palate.

First and foremost is Al Wazir (6051 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood,
323-856-0660), a pit stop midway between my home and workplace,
lauded by me many years ago as the dopest of falafel joints extant.

Forget the chickpeas (for the time being) and grab a whole bird
plus extra garlic sauce, pink turnip pickles and brain-frying green
peppers. Because of the foot traffic from the Gower/Paramount studios,
these birds don’t sit long enough on their vertical perch to dry
out. Simply unbeatable for goodness, convenience and price. (A whole
chick plus a tub of hummus as dip or side dish is under 13 bucks.)

My second favorite, TiGeorges Chicken (309 N. Glendale Blvd.,
Filipinotown, 213-353-9994), is an anomaly. Not Middle Eastern but of
Haiti born, this chicken is marinade-laden, deeply smoky from wood-chip
smoke and an avocado-lime brining process, and fall-off-the-bone
amazing. Not of the crisp variety, but served in their own sauce
plus ti malis (a particularly brutal Caribbean hot sauce), the birds
of this unassuming joint have a positively Pavlovian effect as you
approach Glendale Boulevard.

This being L.A., one must bow to the O.G., the little old Zankou chain,
the first most famously at the corner of Sunset and Normandie.

The old L.A. Weekly, ensconced in deep Silver Lake, might never have
made a printing deadline without its staff chowing down on the fast
‘n’ potent bird and garlic-sauce combo. Now there are at least five
of these in L.A., with a sixth in the O.C. The place’s chicken is so
deeply embedded in the Angeleno consciousness that an anguished fellow
traveler, having spotted me wearing Zankou’s trademark yellow T-shirt
outside Boston’s Copley Square, told me he’d been craving it all day,
thanks a lot! 5065 Sunset Blvd., Hollywood, (323) 665-7842.

Call for other locations.

Forget the taco ‘n’ burrito stand – rotisserie chicken is the real
mish-mosh nosh, the true definer. Chicken removed from its metal
stick and served with exotica – that’s the taste of L.A. I always
come back to, whenever I’m gone too long. And only we know this,
so let’s keep it that way, okay?