The ninety-four year-old owner of the place on an empty street in which I ate fried chicken and butter beans for lunch. Now retired (the place is run by her great grand-daughter) she started her restaurant in the spare room of her house because locals liked the smell of what she was cooking. When the effects of a hurricane flooded her kitchen and home seven years ago, volunteers pulled together to bring her restaurant back.
I didn't meet her but this is testament to the secret recipe for the finest and deepest fried food I have ever tasted.
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