It was bound to happen sooner or later. Despite my rigorous and exhaustive up front research on our dining selections, and in a constant effort to bring you stories from only the most worthy of culinary options, we finally had one slip through the cracks this week. We were hoodwinked by the appalling AQ Chicken House in Fayetteville, which guises itself as a “Northwest Arkansas Tradition”, but in reality contains about as much actual tradition as Burger King (no offense King). My winning streak has come to an end, and I feel like I just gave up bloop single to break up my no hitter in the bottom of the 7th inning.
I have no one to blame but myself.
I should have been tipped off when the place was empty a full hour before closing, and all the chairs were already on the tables. We should have gone running for the door when the ice cream scooper came out for the mashed potatoes and the macaroni and cheese looked like it spent an afternoon curdling in the Arkansas sun. The namesake chicken itself was bland, uninspired, and indistinguishable from a low rent KFC. Toss in an audible disturbance with a disgruntled employee, and you have a recipe for one craptastic meal.
I’d sooner become a vegan than fork over my money at AQ Chicken House again.
The most disappointing part was that we only went to AQ after spending a pleasant afternoon sampling our way down the impressive row of microbrewed taps at the Hog Haus Brewery on Dickson Street. A place, which frankly, we never should have left.
Adding to the ambience and pleasantries at the Hog Haus was the affable father and son tandem we met that had made the journey all the way from the University of South Carolina. Lloyd (father) and Cameron (son) were parked at the bar next to us, and despite their allegiances to the recently defeated Gamecocks, remained in agreeable and welcoming spirits. Lloyd has led a rather interesting life and had more than his fair share of stories. We spent the rest of the afternoon pleasantly regaled with Lloyds tales of bucketing night crawlers for a living, dodging flying fish at the wheel of a 90ft sailboat, briefly entering the lobster import/export business, and turning a one week vacation in the Virgin Islands into a two year residency. In fact, we even laid the groundwork for a possible trip to South Carolina next year for a game. Between the palatable Hog Haus brew and great conversation, it made for one enjoyable afternoon.
Next time we won’t be leaving for a chicken sham.
Best wishes on the rest of your season Lloyd & Cameron, and perhaps we will darken your doorstep next year in Columbia!
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