Americans love chicken so much that in 2005 we consumed more than a hundred pounds of the feathered protein for every man, woman and child. That's nearly more than all other types of meat. Combined.
Somehow, though, the most popular fast food joints are still the big burger chains. Sure, they all sell chicken, but it's just not their thing. Besides the buckets of grease sold by a redneck "Colonel" with the military experience of George Jr. and a tattooed sailor with bulging forearms and a speech impediment, fast-food restaurants that specialize in our favorite meat can be surprisingly difficult to find.
YaYa's Flame Broiled does it. Walk up to the counter during the lunch rush and you'll see a huge expanse of gas-fired grill-top covered with butterflied chickens splayed above the flames, skins turning a crackling shade of mahogany. as in neighborhood barbecue joint, the chickens are hacked up with a wicked cleaver right at the counter — if you get splattered with a piece of stray skin, consider it a sample. Orders are taken and served with a speed that rivals the quickest fast food outfits.
This small, Michigan-based chain, with seven locations in the Bay area, has been churning out popular meat for almost a decade, with little competition. Until now.
Enter Pollo Tropical. This is its second foray into the Tampa area after an aborted franchise folded in Carrollwood a few years ago. The scene inside its two new corporate-owned locations — one in Tampa and one in Pinellas Park — is surprisingly similar to YaYa's. It's got the same huge grill, the same expanse of sizzling chickens, the same surprising speed — but Pollo Tropical has one important thing going for it. Pollo tastes
new.
Or maybe I should say that YaYa's tastes dated. Both joints have the same problems and advantages when it comes to the chicken: The white meat is invariably on the dry side while the fattier dark meat maintains a luscious texture. No matter the texture, the skin and meat is always well-seasoned. At YaYa's though, the prevailing marinade flavor is citrus and pepper. They're the same flavors slathered on almost every supermarket chicken served since the advent of the rotisserie craze.
Add to that YaYa's selection of side dishes, all of which seem more at home in a boot-camp chow line — watery kernelled corn, suspiciously smooth mashed potatoes, chopped coleslaw and incongruous doughy pita bread — and you can see that Pollo Tropical doesn't have to do much to seize the initiative.
Pollo's marinade is also citrus-based, but with an equatorial pineapple and mango touch that reflects the chain's South Florida roots. That fruit makes for a sweeter crust than the industrial pepper overtones of YaYa's, along with a bare hint of herb. The difference is subtle, to be sure, but there's enough complexity to set apart Pollo's pollo from the ubiquitous flavors featured at its competitor.
Plantains are golden brown pieces of fried fruit candy. Black beans, while nothing special, are tasty enough. Tomatoes and red onions are swimming in powerful balsamic vinegar, gutsier than any fast food around, even if the thick red wedges are crunchy and under-ripe. These items are nothing new to Tampa, the home of the Cuban lunch line, but it's nice to find them at a McD's substitute.
Pollo's yucca in garlic, however, is irredeemably terrible. The restaurant stews this noble tuber until the wedges turn to gummy starch, and the garlic, along with all other seasonings, is nonexistent.
Which is not the case with Pollo's roast pork sandwich; all the missing yucca garlic — raw and pungent — is piled high atop pulled pork doused in serviceable barbecue sauce. Largely due to the good-bread-versus-bad-pita equation, all of Pollo's sandwiches are better than the exceptionally dry shredded chicken and soupy barbecue chicken versions at YaYa's.
Pollo also dishes up white or yellow rice bowls topped with its chicken or pork, as well as decent ropa vieja. The salads, while simple, are vastly better — and much more varied — than those available at YaYa's.
Both places are pretty easy on the wallet, if higher-priced than burger joints. You can get a dinner at either for anywhere from $5 to $8, depending on size, or feed a crowd for less than $50.
In a straight-up fight, Pollo Tropical's South Florida accent easily overcomes the tried-and-tired tastes of YaYa's Flame Broiled. Still, it's nice to have both of them in the Bay area. We need as many options as we can get if we're going to keep our obsessive chicken consumption up.
This article appears in Sep 26 – Oct 2, 2007.