Rebecca Marx's Best Fried Chicken - 2010
Even if I ate poultry, I'd still be inclined to sing the praises of the fried catfish at Pies-N-Thighs. It's the kind of catfish that is usually confined to a hyperbolic memory of something consumed south of the Mason-Dixon Line: crunchy, salty, and nearly greaseless on the outside; tear-jerkingly moist and tender on the inside. The agreeably gritty cornmeal crust is a great foil for tartar and hot sauces, and does an able job of soaking up the coleslaw that comes on the side, along with pickles and a buttery chunk of cornbread. If the chicken is the restaurant's calling card, the catfish is its siren song.