Hot Chicken

This is "Hot Chicken: The Photo Essay" 

The secret window that you order from, the hours you wait, the wonderful young woman who sits across from you and lets you know that she'll be drenching her extra-hot chicken in hot sauce (likely story, miss!), the checkered tablecloth, the Wonder Bread soaked through with chicken drippings and spice, the potato salad that almost calms your blazing tongue, the moment you reach for the ranch to squeeze it directly into your mouth, the fiery tears running down your face, the inability to stop eating, your friends demanding McDonalds ice cream afterwords: This is Hot Chicken. 

This is me trying to explain the particular experience that is Nashville's Prince's Hot Chicken. And in doing so I've learned that words can't capture it and pictures can try. I'll let the pictures speak for me on this one but I hope to see you soon Nashville, and it won't be a real visit unless my fingers are caked with cayenne pepper.