One nice perquisite of my recent relocation to Washington Heights is that I’m in easy walking distance of a little shop that does pollo al carbon really really well. Chicken skin roasted to a crisp blackness, oozy oils directly underneath, below that chicken flesh dry and flaky and easily falilng apart to the touch, flavors all basted in and concentrated, salty and gamy and smokey and very very yummy.
The catch is, they only sell half chickens and whole chickens. No quarters. But hey, the price is nice, and I’m thinking I’ll save the rest for leftovers.
There ain’t no leftovers. Yep, I just ate half a chicken unto myself. Damn, that’s good eating!