Gotta wanta needa havea Bojangles

Saturday was a day in the making for almost a year now. Ever since the first report that Bojangles was coming to DC. Actual DC, not a suburb. 

Bojangles. In my current place of residence. Accessible via metro anytime I need it. 

Bojangles. Too many people up here have never heard the word without a "Mr." in front of it. 

Bojangles. The North Carolina institution making home feel just a tiny bit closer. A home that, at least in this case, is made of seasoned fries, spicy chicken, biscuits, and sweet tea.

Our little piece of the South finally opened in this not-North, not-South city on Thursday. And on Saturday two Carolina girls planned their day around a visit to Union Station to partake of those famous chicken 'n biscuits. And it was just as good as we knew it would be. (Though, the fries could have used a bit more seasoning.)

The sign as we waited in the long line. A line that was never shorter than 10 people the hour we were there.

Getting closer! The counter and the menu. And a menu, by the way, that does not include my beloved cinnamon biscuits. I will be writing a letter.

Is there anything more lovely than the iconic yellow box filled with a four-piece chicken supreme meal, seasoned fries, and a biscuit? (Hint: No.)

Brandie enjoying her chicken.

Just a little bit excited. So excited, in fact, that I actually ordered the sweet tea. Even though I don't really like sweet tea. But it just seemed like the right thing to do.

I haven't been home since Christmas and last week was long and exhausting. And at one point I decided hush puppies were needed. Needed badly. But they aren't easy to come by up here so I tried to put them out of my mind. Then on Friday night I went to dinner with some friends and we ended up at a restaurant with hush puppies. In fact, they checked the menu before we even put our names on the list. So I got my hush puppies -- even though they were onion batter based -- and I felt better. 

Until Saturday when I just wanted to go home. But I have a busy month ahead of me and as much as I want to say screw it and just book a ticket South, it's not possible. So instead it was a Bojangles lunch with a best friend and things were ok again. 

Like a smell or a song, food evokes certain memories and feelings. And whether it's hush puppies or Bojangles, wedding soup or potato pancakes, I associate certain foods with my life, with my home. They have the power to take me back, even if it's just in my head, and make things better.   

Plus, it's just really, really good food.