When you see a sign that says "Country Kitchen," you know it is going to be greasy, it is going to be cheap, and it is definitely going to be comfort food. I grew up in diners like this drinking free refills and only having enough money for an order of fries. When I walked into Country Kitchen (4840 N. Shepherd), I felt my heritage smack me in the face at the smell of steam tables, old fryer oil and cheap coffee brewing. I felt in my element.
I started thinking of a big breakfast. My dining companion decided on chicken fried steak and eggs, and I had my arteries set on a steak and eggs. The only question was: grits or hash browns? My steak was chewy, but somehow that seemed appropriate. I thought the grilled onions on top of the meat were a nice touch. A bite of the CFS revealed that it was battered, not breaded. Still, it was satisfying. The creamy peppered gravy was good.
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I walked by the steam tables and looked over some extra-cheesy and runny mac & cheese, goulash, meatloaf and two dozen other comfort food staples. It all looked appetizing, and at about eleven the lunch crowd started to fill the place: regulars, truckers, mechanics and some dude with a pony tail that sat right in front of the television in the corner and crammed fried food in his mouth while watching bad daytime television. Why is it that when you eat comfort food, you feel so uncomfortable afterward?