Country Chicken N’ Fish | Lakeland
A visit to my grandfather was long overdue, but so was a visit to a nearby Lakeland vittles shack that I discovered in the near past. A mistake of identity led us to Country Chicken N’ Fish and their renowned fried gizzards. Would the tiny house of country-fried delights meet my expectations? Would Christa find favor for the tender tasty giblets?
We blinked and it was gone
I had sequestered myself at home in the early weeks of July to meet some deadlines and before I knew it, the month was over. Our last visit was on Independence day and my Florida family had begun to think we had fallen prey to dastardly deeds. To prove ourselves not dead in a ditch, I planned a trip to Lakeland.
Motoring on our stomachs
As is my custom when planning any action, my head brain consulted my abdominal brain. We’d need to eat lunch and it made sense to find a place in Lakeland. A place we had never eaten before but that had a good reputation was in order. It should be quick, tasty, and cheap.
An image flashed into my brain: A tiny white shack dispensing fried chicken and fish. I remembered passing the place with my brother over a year ago and wanting to stop. But my brother was not having it, saying something about my ability to stomach a South of the Border grease tamale not being shared by all. I regretted the missed opportunity and had been wanting to make a stop now that we were residents.
Fine shack abounds
Then I made the mistake. While looking the place up online I mistook one li’l white shack for another and wound up making plans to visit an entirely different place. Who knew the south was full of li’l ol’ shacks of fried food? My mistake was a boon to our bellies, however, because it led to finding some of the tastiest fried vittles I’ve yet had.
So I asked Christa if she’d be game for a fried lunch (she was), verified our route, and we took off in the sporty little runabout for Country Chicken N’ Fish. This time, I used the iPhone map app and my handy Walmart windshield phone mount to avoid shooting past Lakeland, again. That $5 purchased has really simplified my travels and eased my road frustrations.
To be clear, when I see shacks like this, I don’t think of food poisoning. Instead, I instinctively imagine tasty vittles, simple in nature, but big on flavor with an old-fashioned flair, and easy on the wallet. Yelp reviews feature more self-diagnoses than WebMD. If you allow them an ounce of credibility, there’s not a restaurant on earth that hasn’t given someone the gut grief.
Speaking of Yelp, many reviews for Country Chicken N’ Fish that I glossed over raved of their reputation for tender and tasty gizzards.
Now, for the uninitiated, gizzards are the bits of the bird that grind up the food on its way to the intestines. You might have noticed that birds don’t have teeth or lips. This makes grinding up food without it spilling from their beaks an impossibility. So the beak is simply a smash and grab tool. The chewing, as it were, takes place in the gizzard. And all that chewing makes for some tough muscle which requires a delicate technique to cook or you’ll be chewing til your face-gizzard cramps. Based on those reviews, I couldn’t wait to get some.
Country Chicken N’ Fish
1263 Kathleen Rd, Lakeland, FL 33805
Phone: (863) 686-2564
Hours: Monday to Saturday – 10:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m.
No website available.
Gizzard of Id
The vibrant red of the tin roof appeared and I took my foot off the gas. We slowed past the spot on Kathleen Road and I parked along an ice kiosk under the shade of an oak grove. Picnic tables were arranged about the cozy spot and we agreed that was where we’d enjoy our lunch. It was too perfect.
The window was free of customers but there was a line of cars queued up at the drive-through. Though I have an experience-based distrust for drive-through service, if we liked our inaugural experience, we’d have to keep this option in mind for future call-in orders. They accept faxed orders, too. At the window, we studied the menu. We should have done so before we left the house. Now we had a hard time deciding.
I wanted it all. Fried chicken by the piece or meal. Fried fish by the piece or meal. Sides galore and the legendary gizzards and livers, by the half pound, pound, or in a giz-liv combo. Christa doesn’t dig on liver, though she loves liverwurst (she’s an enigma) so I figured I wouldn’t push my luck by coaxing her to try it here. I was impressed enough that she was game to try gizzards—the least offensive of the giblets.
We finally decided to get two meals which we’d split and a half-pound bag of gizzards. This way we could try four sides and fully gauge their culinary prowess. Through the window, the woman stood politely but visibly irked at our pain-in-the-ass indecisiveness, but as I began rattling off the order, she quickly shifted into grandmotherly. The kind of grandmother that would take you fishing and gut the catch at the bank.
We chose 1/2 lb. of Gizzards, the 2 pc Chicken Dinner with collard greens and baked beans and the 2 pc Fish Dinner with potato salad and coleslaw. Both came with a roll each. Hush puppies (daddy) were available as a special side, but not as an included side. Next time; we had enough fried treats coming today.
Luck timed our visit perfectly. Customers suddenly appeared from all directions. As we ordered a crowd quickly formed behind us. After paying, I shifted right to make room and noticed a sign in the window regarding pound cake.
I love homemade pound cake. At my mention of it out loud, the guy next to me broke into a wide smile and turned to say it was really good. He reiterated that everything was really good but that the pound cake was particularly good. I was tempted to add it to the order, but we had already paid and we had plenty of food coming as it was. I didn’t want to seem a glutton. Next time; with the hush puppies.
After a five minute wait, there was a tap at the kitchen door window and grandma motioned for me to meet her at the window. Our order was ready. Offers of hot sauce were declined while tartar sauce was accepted. She placed two full-sized compartmented styrofoam boxes—requiring long strips of cellophane tape to keep closed—into a plastic bag and advised me to get plenty of napkins from the dispensers in front of me. I thanked her, hefted the heavy bag and walked to the picnic tables, knees weak with anticipation.
Down-home fare and plenty to share
I pulled the flimsy white treasure chests from the bag and slowly peeled back the tape…No, I yanked that tape off and popped those tops like a jack in the box. There it glistened in all its golden glory: a crisply fried breast, a crisply fried thigh, and three curly fried filets of fish in crusty cornmeal coatings.
The divided recesses held a rough-chopped coleslaw, a heaping pile of dark green steaming collards, and a pale yellow mound of potato salad. A pull of the lid on a small styrofoam cup lid revealed a thick, ruddy serving of baked beans. A yeast roll in each box rounded out the square meals.
I first took a bite of each side. The beans struck me as canned—possibly Bush’s—maybe doctored with molasses or golden syrup. But they could be one of the infinite ready-made varieties. They were sweet and tasted great, but they were not screaming “homemade” at us.
The collards were tender and had a good base flavor, though not the best I’ve had in Florida. Whatever herbed and seasoned stock they were simmered in was tasty, but they needed salt and something acidic—maybe vinegar or the hot sauce I declined. They did a good job balancing all the fat and starch we were consuming.
The potato salad could be homemade or a quality ready-made. It’s potato salad and it was tangy, with a sweet finish. Did I detect pickle juice? We both enjoyed it.
The coleslaw was also zesty and sweet, both to our liking, but salt was again lacking as was our beloved celery seed—I’m getting used to its absence in Florida, but may have to start carrying my own.
The slaw concoction impressed me; the rough matchstick-like chop of cabbage (red and green) and carrot reminded me of an Asian style salad (the addition of almond slivers, sesame, and ginger would make it so). But then so many basic salads are one or two ingredients from another, so why did I think to even mention that? It was prepared well and beyond the basic so common of shacks. I enjoyed it.
Now, for the meats. I passed the white meat chicken to my girl and dug my teeth into the luscious thigh. The skin popped off, as is typical, and I munched it up like a crunchy, salty, poultry Dorito. The recipe seemed to be just flour and salt, no black pepper and certainly no paprika or cayenne (the latter much to Christa’s delight). But it was delectable in its simplicity.
I once had a chef that would challenge us to make tasty dishes using only three ingredients. Chicken, flour, and salt are about as basic as it gets for down-home goodness. It is said to be so that the Colonel’s eleven herbs and spices are in reality only salt and pepper; look how far that got old Harlon.
The meat was tender, juicy and came clean from all but the intricate joints. It was a very tasty piece of bird and that skin/breading was crisp and flavorful. Christa’s breast was also succulent and delicious. [Note to self: Reword that last sentence before publication.]
The fish had the crisp crunch of cornmeal that goes so well with fried fish. I never asked the species of fish, but I’m leaning toward tilapia. Perhaps it was local. I’ll ask next time. Oh yes, there will be a next time. I was hooked.
We had the option of batter or cornmeal and I chose the latter. Christa expressed disappointment at my choice and I should have consulted her before deciding. But I reminded her of the delicious cornmeal-coated catfish we had from a gas station near Lake Okeechobee fifteen years ago and she nodded.
This fish was not as great as that—but then this was not a gas station in sugar cane country. This was still tasty. The coating was crisp, the white flesh was firm, flaky, moist, and tasted fresh and clean. The only thing missing was salt. The cornmeal dredge needs it and the filets need a sprinkling beforehand. And another dash after lifted from the grease for good measure. Otherwise, it was fine. The tartar sauce helped it along.
But those gizzards. I can’t impress upon you how tasty and tender those lil’ offals were—so rich, so well seasoned. I couldn’t stop eating them, tossing them back like peanuts or popcorn.
Before The Scottish Place sparked a nugget frenzy that led to the (then) twenty-something breaded chunks becoming a required component of children’s diets across America, there were gizzards. These naturally boneless fowl morsels blow breaded chunks of white meat chicken out of the fryer. They are rich, full of far more flavor than either dark or light meat, and (for the moment) they are cheap.
Country Chicken N’ Fish make darn good gizzards that stand up to the internet hype. These might be the tenderest, tastiest gizzards on earth. Crispy, salty, rich, and flavorful. The thin dusting of flour gives a subtle crunch and my teeth sunk effortlessly into the soft meat.
I suggest opening the foil-lined bag and eating them as soon as you receive them. The steam from being sealed up will soften the crispy papery shell. That said, their delicious either way. No one can eat just one and even Christa enjoyed them.
Good, fast, and cheap…and low-cal, pick three
A family of stray tabbies resided in the tiny oak grove and took to the aroma wafting down from our table. They tried to invite themselves to our meal, calling politely from under the table. We gave little bits of meat to each one and they took to us, of course. They didn’t choose this spot as home for it’s convenient access to I-4.
Before driving away I snapped a few pics of them and they started walking toward me thinking I had more food to give. I did, but I wasn’t giving it, this was breakfast. Sorry, kits.
I’ve got to go back for more and to try that pound cake…and the hush puppies. They say (They? Who’s they?) that gizzards are high in cholesterol and should be enjoyed in moderation, which is sound advice because they are as addictive as Popplers with none of the moral dilemma. But a monthly or bimonthly snack couldn’t hurt and now I know just the shack to find them. Gizzards and pound cake. Yep, there is a future for us with Country Chicken N’ Fish.
I truly wish I wasn’t cursed with the metabolism of a sloth. I fantasize of lounging on a settee amid corinthian columns knocking back gallons of sweet tea, fried gizzards, hush puppies, and pound cake. Why must I be genetically predisposed to pack on four inches of waistline at the scent of a cheesesteak?
While we were waiting, an elderly couple was debating their order when they settled on several pounds of mixed livers and gizzards and large sweet teas. They were skinny as rails. How? I gripped the old man by the collar and shook him senseless, screaming, “How? How, dammit?”
As I said, we next visited with my Grandfather, proved our existence, and shared some of our gizzards with him. But, not too many. I mean, he has to watch his cholesterol. And I need a tasty offal breakfast.
It does the trick, except on Sundays
Was this fried chicken, fried fish, beans, coleslaw, greens, and potato salad the best I’ve ever had? No. But I’m not looking strictly for the best, though I’ll praise it when I see it. I’m looking for reliably good, and Country Chicken ‘n Fish is good.
The largest complaint could be cured with salt, the next with vinegar. The portions were nicely sized for the price. The food is made fresh while you wait and served piping hot.
Are they reliable? We will definitely make future trips to Country Chicken n’ Fish to find out. Now, we just need to find more reasons to make our way through Lakeland, other than visiting my Grandfather, of course.
What? There’s a collection of buildings designed by Frank Lloyd Wright at the nearby Florida Southern College campus? Sounds like a walking tour is in our future.
I can sense your anticipation. My wife is positively dripping with it.
The shack of truth
I am a devoted fan of food shacks. Of course, some are not as clean as others. Some serve food that is not as tasty as others. And some are downright awful. Still, my experiences have been positive enough that my eyes light up and my mouth waters at the mere sight of one as I travel. If my stomach was bottomless, my wallet overflowing, and my metabolism set to nuclear, I’d never pass one by. Country Chicken N’ Fish has reinforced my love for and faith in these culinary institutions.
The service was accommodating, the food was delicious, the quality seemed decent, the value was rewarding, and the whole experience was enjoyable. I want to go back for more, and that is all one needs to know. When I do return, maybe twice more, I’ll post an update to confirm their reliability and consistency. Until then, I’ll be dreaming of those tasty gizzards.
Thanks for reading!
Stay tuned for the upcoming Thursday post on the Frank Lloyd Wright Campus of Florida State College, also in Lakeland.
Please post a comment, critique, praise, or question. I’d love to hear from you.