The must-try wings at Ms. Rose’s
Recently the hubby and I checked out a somewhat new addition to our side of town — The Original Ms. Rose’s Fine Food & Cocktails. It’s a casual place, chock full of American nostalgia in its atmosphere and branding. We were excited to try it out because it belongs in the same restaurant group as Tristan, a nostalgic favorite for us ever since we got married there.
The meal started off promisingly. The hubby has never met a chicken wing that didn’t call out to him, so we ordered a few while we mulled over our plan of attack. When the wings arrived, I felt good about the crispy fry job topped with a smattering of sauce. Someone back in the kitchen knew how to handle themselves with a deep fryer, and I liked that person. We ordered a few more fried items, including the dirty rice fritters and the Jamaican empanadas. Clearly we were not going for a light meal.
The dirty rice fritters were delicious but overkill after ordering two other fried appetizers
The meat empanadas were kind of a letdown. Even though the spicing of the ground beef was good, their size and grease-laden doughy exterior made me wonder who could possibly eat a main course after having just a bite or two of the meat pies. The dirty rice fritters, on the other hand, were pretty tasty — spiced nicely, crunchy exterior and perfectly cooked rice.
Top left: beautiful roasted brussel sprouts were front and center to my chicken biscuit; and right: the hubby loved his sauteed kale but was lukewarm on the meatloaf sandwich
Maybe we ordered wrong, but we ended up having mixed feelings about our entrees. I ordered a chicken biscuit, which is probably one of my favorite guilty pleasure foods. One weekend, back when I was in law school in Austin, Texas, I was in serious need of a chicken biscuit fix to cure a variety of ailments. One of my best girlfriends and I tried to cajole a local fast food restaurant into creating one using different components of items already on their menu. It didn’t really work, but the effort and the argumentative pleading that we engaged in stand out in my mind as both one of the highest and lowest moments of my legal education.
Anyway, that’s what I ordered at Ms. Rose’s, along with a side of roasted brussel sprouts. The hubby opted for the meatball sandwich and sauteed kale. It’s a good thing when the sides stand out for their exceptional tastiness, but it’s also kind of a bad sign when they completely overshadow the main course. That’s what happened here. I found myself wishing for a chicken biscuit from far inferior settings instead of the one place artfully in front of me, and the hubby wondered why he didn’t just stick with a good thing — the wings — instead of venturing into unchartered territory.
The verdict in the end was that we’d go back to Ms. Rose’s for a bowl of wings and a cocktail or two, but that we’d probably, in a kidless world where we had no 7:30 pm curfew, head on to somewhere else for dinner. Since our reality isn’t kidless, we packed it in and headed home, happy for our little date and congratulating ourselves for finding superior wings in Charleston.