Forget what you know about fried chicken in California – the real deal isn’t hiding in some trendy gastropub or farm-to-table hotspot with a six-month waiting list.
It’s sizzling away in the kitchen of Lori’s Diner, a 1950s time capsule nestled in the bustling heart of San Francisco, where the chicken is crispy, the atmosphere is nostalgic, and nobody’s going to charge you extra for the privilege of eating off vintage dinnerware.
The iconic red neon sign glows like a beacon on Powell Street, cutting through the fog and the pretension of nearby establishments where a single appetizer costs more than your first car payment.
You know those rare dining experiences that feel like a warm hug from a long-lost friend?…