Broasted Chicken in Minneapolis | Mother Clucker’s Pizza

Broasted chicken is pressure fried. That is the whole trick and I am not going to dress it up like a TED Talk. The pressure keeps the juice in the bird and the crust where a crust belongs. It is not the same as a basket of chicken that sat under a lamp considering its life.

We call it genuine Broaster chicken because that is the machine and the method, not because we needed another adjective. Two-piece meal. More pieces if you brought more people. Sides that belong next to chicken: mashed potatoes, coleslaw, mac and cheese, fried okra, baked beans, soup, breadsticks, salad. Pick two and stop overthinking it.

The sandwiches are how the chicken sneaks onto a lunch plate. The Classic is broasted chicken, lettuce, tomato, pickle, legend sauce. Tennessee Hot gets chili oil and sriracha aioli. Cordon Bleu is ham, Swiss, legend sauce. The Mother Clucker Club is cheddar, bacon, the usual garden, and the same sauce. You can get them broasted or grilled. I have an opinion. The ticket does not need it.

I grew up in restaurants that took chicken seriously because chicken is how you feed a neighborhood without making it a project. Pizza is the name on the window. The fryer is why a lot of people stay. You can smell it from the sidewalk if the door is open, which in September it should be.

If you came in for a slice and leave with a two-piece, that is not a failure of will. That is the building doing its job. Bawk bawk. There. That is the pun. We are done.

— Sam