Bojangles

Went through the drive thru a few nights ago on my way back to Raleigh from Durham. There were four cars ahead of me, which I figured wasn’t too bad. After ordering, I pulled up and waited for the line to move. Assumed one customer had a large order that was really holding things up. Well, one person went, then the next. Same deal. Spent over 25 minutes waiting for four cars ahead of me in drive thru. I figured I’d let it go if the food was hot. Well, it was not. Not even close to warm. And when I bit in to one of the fries, I got a mouth full of oil– there was a pocket in the fry that had held a good amount of the cooking oil, and I ended up with a mouthful of it. All the fries were this oily– their frier temp had to have been off. Needless to say, I will never be back– I should have gone down 70 a bit further to the other Bojangles.

Definitely better then Popeyes! The iced tea is on point. The family deals are plentiful we ordered a lot at the drive thru and they ended up running the food out to us. The dirty rice, Mac and cheese all great sides.
Not a fan of the coleslaw it’s a bit different!

Well if you are in the south and you haven’t tried… you have to get one of the breakfast biscuits. It has to be on everyone’s bucket list of artery clogging food. Just once… the place is a typical fast food joint with a funny name. The biscuits are def a notch below Bob Evans but a notch above KFC or Popeye’s. The egg biscuit is the best for me. The ham only… pass it up.

It’s Bojangles. Obviously 5 stars. Wish it was open after 11pm, but for my health’s sake, I’m glad it’s not. :P

I am sucker for the biscuits here. Start off my meal with a biscuit and finish off with a biscuit.

My first visit.
Ordered:
fried chicken — skin is not as crispy as Popeye’s but meat is tasty and tender
dirty rice — love the wet rice with chunk of meat
cole slaw — sour, will not order again
iced tea — pretty good
cajun chicken wrap — tasty too
biscuits — love the crispy and tasty crust, and soft inside
will come again if I visit the south

Been there a few time… order wrong every time. Last time went to the drive thru, paid and was told it would be 4 minutes for my order… waited 35 minutes in the parking lot for my food… and again… order was wrong.

Upon telling my North Carolina hosts that I never tried Bojangles — indeed, I had previously only associated the name with the classic Nitty Gritty Dirt Band opus — they immediately insisted that I would be nourished not once, but twice over the course of the weekend until I shared in what is apparently a cherished Southern tradition.
The first sandwich — a cajun chicken biscuit, I believe — was presented to me in bed as I recovered from a particularly perplexing hangover that had left me both nauseated and famished at the same time. What nourishment could possibly mend my troubled stomach? The sandwich, loosely wrapped in waxy fast food paper semi-​translucent from the ample application of bucolic southern grease suffused throughout it, fell into my shaking hands with a soft thud. It’s deceptively small for its weight; in McDonalds terms, the sandwich is about the size of a single cheeseburger, yet it would surely equal close to two Big Macs on any standard scale. Tossed into the vacuum of space, all other fast food offerings would quickly fall into its orbit.
«I eat in bed?» I ask my host, brushing aside the blanket as I unfold the weighty offering. «OK,» she says, with an empathetic grin.
I take my first bite, gently at first, a nibble. In another show of masterful culinary engineering, the rich, buttery biscuit crumbles gently into my mouth, while the bulk of it remains intact to protect the remainder of my sandwich. The chicken is no slouch either, matching the biscuit in terms of denseness without sacrificing moistness, flavor or tenderness, and coated with a decadent, piquant cajun sauce to lubricate its almost salacious entry into my mouth. My saliva expands the infinitesimal bite into a veritable smörgåsbord inside my mouth. Willy Wonka once tried to compress an entire meal into a stick of chewing gum, and while Bojangles has not matched this feat, the Cajun Chicken Biscuit is the closest we’ve come to it in modern times. Immediately, the roiling in my stomach ceases as the churning cauldron of acids and poisons within my stomach pounce upon the dense new addition and are at once neutralized. Each bite I take is larger and larger, as color returns to my face and I regain the ability to speak in full sentences.
I look up and notice my caring hostess, still watching over me as I am slowly filled with the indomitable vitality of Bojangles, and thus of the South itself. «Good?» she asks.
«Yes,» I sputter, spurting out a small burst of biscuit flakes unlucky enough to have missed the warm confines of my stomach. I look up at her meaningfully. «Yes,» I reiterate with unwavering surety.
The next morning, a similar display occurs, only I am told I must come downstairs this time. A new offering awaits — Sausage, egg and cheese, served upon a biscuit I have only known for less than a day, yet already feel a deep, spiritual connection to. The Odyssean voyage, first out of the warm confines of my bed to a cold, uncaring floor, then through a seemingly endless hallway and down not one, but two sets of stairs into an unnaturally bright living room was the stuff of legend, but it was the payoff of the Bojanges sausage biscuit that was truly legendary.
Dear Bojangles, I implore you: In the spirit of your great Robert E Lee, won’t you please fight your way up north one last time? We require your sustenance.

Dear Bojangles,
Your biscuits are out of this world. They are so fluffy yet dense, buttery and sweet, and I could eat them every single day of my life. I love your french fries. My breakfast sandwich and afternoon early dinner sandwich were both spectacular.
Please please please please come open a location in NYC. I promise the lines will be out the door ²⁴⁄₇ and I will stop by daily.
xoxo
Weezy