KFC Review –Bastille, Paris, France – 27/08/23
Summary
Chicken 11/20
Sides 8/10
Service 7/10
Magic 9/10
Total 35/50
The story
A mere two weeks after the tragic events that unfolded at KFC Espoo in Helsinki, and still not having fully reclaimed the joie de vivre that must lead any serious consideration of the great man’s works, I resolved to get back on the horse. If happiness will not move to the man, the man must move to happiness.
We’d moved south to France so that one of our touring party could attend a hen weekend visiting the champagne houses to the east of the city. The rest of the party (me) were abandoned to their own devices. Luckily those devices are many and cunning, although in a city famous for its food, art, architecture, and preparing to host a rugby world cup there was no need for them to be.
After a day of sniffing cheese with the Mona Lisa, debating monumental masonry at the top of the Eifel Tower, and feeding artisanal baguette to bereted pigeons under the
Champs-Élysées, I found a night of booze and music to properly prepare (Overmono) for the centrepiece of the trip, storming KFC Bastille.
The order
Just when you thought that getting one of your 5 plus a day at KFC was an outrageous treat, the French knock the ball out of the park and into the stratosphere by providing a second plus a day in the form of a plastic bag full of cherry tomatoes. Were they good? You’ll see (but also no). But were the vitamins and minerals appreciated? Undeniably. I also, of course, accompanied the tomatoes with a corn on the cob.
For the staples I went with 6 tenders (more on that later) featuring smoky BBQ and the titillatingly named 2HOT4U sauces, authentic French fries from France, and a can of Perrier sparkling water. Ooh la la.
This nutritious banquet set me back 12.95 Euro, or 84.95 Francs circa Feb 2012.
Chicken –11/20
As the up-to-date reader will know I absolutely slated KFC Espoo in Helsinki for only offering drums and tenders. KFC Bastille took the rejection of honest hand working bone in chicken a step further by offering none at all. This I found gobsmacking. If anything, I would have expected a French KFC to offer some hitherto unheralded chicken portion as the star of the show. Necks and feet accompanied by gravy aged in oak barrels previously used to mature burgundy. But to have only tenders, wicked wings, and burgers was astounding. I was not only gobsmacked and astounded, but also dumbfounded. A rare combination.
The tenders themselves were, however, very good. My low opinion of tenders has been previously noted but it must be clear to the sharp reader that a pattern of continuing to order them remains. Why is this? Equally, why, after slandering KFC Espoo with an 8 for offering only drums do I give KFC Bastille an 11? The tenders were slightly better, more artificial, and crunchier, but that doesn’t account for all of the difference. Perhaps mercury was in retrograde. Perhaps my inner child had been to Disney Land. Perhaps I was more, or less, hungover. Hard to say. But that’s showbiz.
Sides – 8/10
A great offering here from the sides. The chips were well cooked, well-seasoned, and served at just the right level of freshness. None of that hand cut nonsense either, these were straight off the factory floor. The double drop of fruit & vegetable was also a tour de force decision by whoever was holding the pen on that decision. The corn itself was cooked to perfection. It could genuinely have been presented on a Sunday lunch plate by someone’s nana. The tomatoes lacked a little in flavour but did have a nice uniform plumpness and firmness and a pleasant burst. Sparkling water is always welcome, particularly from a can because I have a vague notion that that’s better for the earf, although I have no idea whether than notion is backed by fact and no interest in finding out either, lest my bubble should burst.
Service – 7/10
I barely speak English. As anyone from the South of NZ will attest, if something can’t be said with a grunt and an eyebrow movement it’s not work saying. See linked here a rendition of Romeo’s ‘But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?’ soliloquy in the local vernacular. So, to try and make orders in French, when the locals are so famously accommodating, was daunting to say the least. All 7 points are awarded for my not being subject to abuse, and for my being alerted through a familiar grunt when I didn’t pick up on my four-digit order number being called in French.
Magic – 9/10
The magic of KFC is the special something that makes it shine beyond its competitors. Only garbage pail kids are truly enthusiastic about any of KFC’s competitors. KFC attracts a broad church of admirers and devotees because it has the jeni se qua that lifts it above the banal. This ephemeral quality was present in spades at Bastille. Maybe it was a revolutionary haze still hovering in the air of that famous site, maybe it was the shrines to both Tupac and Marilyn Monroe that inexplicably adorned the walls, maybe it was the view out over the public square where the famous prison previously stood, or maybe it was the Charles Manson lookalike that stared passionately at me for the duration of my meal, but the spirit that made me fall in love with KFC in the first place was tangible in KFC Bastille. Would recommend. Magnifique. Merci.
Mingin or Finger lickin?
Finger Lickin 🙂
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