Grandmas pass down all kinds of knowledge, like how to mistrust anyone who isn't Scotch-Irish. Proving they're not all racist, and can teach folks how to cook, Hill Country Chicken.
A sister spot to the BBQ behemoth around the corner, the bros behind HCC're channeling a grandma's soul (cooking) with this bi-level counter-service joint, designing the upstairs as a 50's style "grandma's dream kitchen" awash in soft pastels and the bottom as a grandpa's basement, with abundant wood paneling, vintage furniture, record jackets, and, oddly, a multi-cade machine, sure to rile old timers upset by the inaccuracies of 1942. Starting with a buttermilk brine bath to maximize juicy tenderness, the fowl's prepped two different ways: their much-beloved Mama Els' recipe, in which skinless chicken's dipped in seasoned flour, coated in egg, and tossed in crushed crackers, and the Hill Country Classic, which's double coated in seasoned flour, fried, and spiced with a "secret chicken shake" -- at least grandma understands privacy. Avail by the piece, boneless early death's also plopped on a buttered bun w/ sliced sour pickles, wrapped in a tortilla with sweet-hot pepper jelly & creamy coleslaw, and thrown into a fried pimento cheese & jalapeno sandwich that's described as Monte Cristo-esque, though after eating it you'll be the one who's down for the count.
As one grandma's never enough, their pie-baking one gets repped via 3", 5'', and 11" flavors of cheddar-crust'd apple, whiskey buttermilk, and the chocolate/ caramel/ pecan/ marshmallow Texas Billionaire, who grandma would gladly vote for as long as he keeps everyone out.