It’s known as the chicken waffle, and the combination is as peculiar as it sounds. An otherwise savoury dish drowned in a cloying maple-flavoured syrup, too sweet to make sense. Yet at a grungy Cape Town hole-in-the-wall called Lefty’s, true believers swear the R65 Kentucky chicken waffle is a life-changing experience.
On entering Lefty’s you sniff stale smoke from the bar and pass chairs in chaotic disarray from the revelry of the night before. The dimly lit eating area’s embossed wallpaper and stained-wood panels resembles a fifties dining room, but doesn’t hide the canteen rawness of the adjacent kitchen.
‘You need support, someone cheering you on, if you order one of those,’ warned the waitress on scribbling the waffle order. Fortunately I had a wingman, who settled on a tender, tasty strip of pork ribs for R75.
The chicken waffle arrived. Puffy Belgian pieces made from a craft beer and butter batter. Boneless chicken breasts, marinated in buttermilk, thyme, cayenne pepper and hot sauce overnight, and then deep-fried until crispy in seasoned flour. Back bacon bits for smoky saltiness.
‘The chicken waffle started out as a joke,’ recalls co-owner and chef Ryan McDonagh. ‘I was fascinated by this American thing. We put it on the menu, convinced it wouldn’t stick.’ It did.
‘It’s so over the top that if you’re going to get it, you’re going to get it. It’s quite an abrasive sort of dish – so arrogant and full on – but it works in its own way,’ he adds.
It was a hefty, surprisingly satisfying plate. But after four bites I couldn’t stop airlifting the chicken and bacon clear of the saccharine pool, desperate for salvation. ‘A lot of people just can’t fathom it. That’s why they come,’ shrugs McDonagh. ‘Everybody figures they have to try it just once, to see what the fuss is all about.’
LEFTY’S DIVE BAR, 103 Harrington Street. Tel 021-461-0407. Open Mondays from 4pm, Tuesdays to Saturdays from 11am. Kitchen closes 11pm.
This appeared in The Times on 30 July 2014.