Chicken George Jnr

You'll smell the chicken before you see the shop front on Bancroft, which is exactly how it should be. The fryer's been working overtime since they opened, turning out pieces that crack audibly when you bite through the golden shell to reveal meat that's actually stayed moist underneath. This isn't Nashville hot or Korean twice-fried – it's straightforward British fried chicken done properly, with chips that aren't an afterthought and burgers that don't fall apart in your hands. The queue often snakes past the window at weekend lunchtimes, filled with families, teens spending pocket money, and office workers who've given up on sad desk salads. Smart move closing Mondays – gives them time to recover from the weekend rush.