“What’s so special about the chicken?” wondered a friend out loud after I told him about my gut-busting, multi-borough journey to sample the city’s noteworthy Korean-style fried chicken spots. The short answer is simple: When prepared correctly and not saddled with head-scratching service, lost-in-translation side dishes and syrupy-sweet glazes, KFC is desert-island food—that is, you’d think about it constantly if you were stranded on one, and crave it until the darkness in the back of your mind dissolved into a floating box of golden legs, thighs and wings.

The long answer is that the chicken is fried twice—in between dips in the bubbling oil, legs and wings are shaken and cooled, which stops the cooking process and results in a smoother, lighter crust. Sauces are often added after cooking, which can both complement and burden a perfectly browned bird.

Over the course of two months, I visited seven of the city’s top KFC spots, which included an epic three-stop day in Queens. If my doctor is reading this, I’ll see you for my annual cholesterol check in 2012.

Kyedong Fried Chicken
On a busy strip of Northern Blvd., in what can best be described as Flushing’s suburban K-town (squat medical offices, dry cleaners and car dealerships emblazoned with Hangul script) sits Kyedong, a franchise based in Seoul that claims to serve “Original Korean Fried Chicken.” (Ironically, it’s across the street from an Anglo-KFC, which was far more crowded on a recent Sunday afternoon.) The menu is sparse with medium ($12) and large ($18) servings of a choice of hot or soy-flavored legs and wings—with photos of the fried goods plastered on the walls (inexplicably garnished with kiwi). The chicken, prefaced with a flat iceberg lettuce salad and pickled white radish, was served in individual frying fans (so Cracker Barrel!) and on a bed of unremarkable freezer fries. Biting into the drumstick, however, was impressive—a memorable combination of salt, sweet, pepper and thermal. Unfortunately, water could not come soon enough from the lackadaisical staff. B−
150-54 Northern Blvd., Flushing, Queens, 718-358-8300

Kyochon Chicken
We headed up the street to this noticeably hipper and more crowded fry shop, decorated like a Panera Bread with pastel-hued modern furniture and a giant faux blackboard boasting the chain’s endearingly ESL motto: “We make the most friendly and humanly touching chicken franchise for everyone.”  The chicken was again served with a forgettable tossed salad and pickled white radish (the dressing was a strange hybrid of sesame ginger and Paul Newman’s bottled Italian), and can be ordered original and hot (medium, $9.95; large, $17.95). We tried hot, which arrived crispy with a thick skin and slathered in an overpowering garlic sauce. “This is something that I have eaten before,” noted a Korean friend accompanying me on the eating mission, adding that the lip-tingling fire made this her favorite spot out of three sampled in Queens. For me, the sugary coating was too gooey, whereas I prefer light, crispy and salty. A side of fries ($3.50) arrived peppery, and fried cheese sticks ($2.95) were crisped to perfection—recalling a batch I had at a Wisconsin bowling alley several years back, the top bar snack of my life. B
156-50 Northern Blvd., Flushing, Queens, 718-939-3002
 
Unidentified Flying Chickens
UFC is tucked beneath the elevated tracks of Roosevelt Avenue in Jackson Heights and for a spot that is inconspicuous from the outside (sandwiched between a cell phone store and a Vietnamese restaurant), the flavors blasting from the subterranean kitchen are high. Chicken is available with four sauces (hot, soy garlic, spicy mustard and sweet-and-spicy), with the sweeter sauces arriving thick and gooey—wetnaps are handed out before and after the meal. Go with hot, which nicely coats what is easily the crunchiest chicken I sampled on the mission. Owner Young Jin uses only fresh chicken and makes every batch to order; the menu warns of a 15-minute wait. Young does need to work on his sides. Sweet potato fries were bland, and salads were boxed and mayo-based. UFC, which poses itself as a nightclub (with extremely cute servers to boot), is currently BYOB. B+
71-22 Roosevelt Ave., Jackson Heights, Queens, 718- 205-6662

Bon Chon Chicken
Unlike the casual, low-key Queens places, Manhattan’s K-town serves up chicken with flash and overblown hype. Enter Bon Chon, a bustling second-level lounge with weekend waits entering Grimaldi’s territory. On an early weekday night, we were seated right away near a group of biz-casual Koreans, sipping whiskey at industrial-chic tables near one of the giant picture windows that flood the room with neon light. The clubby vibe extended to the service, which, even when hanging out with a Korean pal, provided us with very little love. Attitude aside, the chicken ($20 for a large plate) was pretty top-notch with a light, crispy crunch. The “hot” sauce was hardly, and more garlic-soy than fire. Fries were a bit mushy. Beers are $25 for a pitcher of Killian’s Red, which is very suspect. C+
314 Fifth Ave. at 32nd St., 212-221-2222

Restaurant Forte Baden Baden
This much-hyped spot in Manhattan (thank you very much Peter Meehan) is all that and a bag of chips—fries in this case—which rival some of city's top pommes frites on the ever-important crunch scale. But Baden Baden is still known for the chicken, served in both regular and large portions. Stick with the bigger $18.95 plate and split it two ways, three if you dare to order extra dishes like the inexplicable Mexican salad (mixed apple, ham, raisin, boiled egg white and cucumber, all mixed together with mayo). The chicken is both moist (from a round in the rotisserie) and crunchy (from the deep fry) and is served quartered, sans legs and wings— perfect for dipping chunks into the house hot sauce (a striking resemblance to Frank's RedHot). Wash it all down with pitchers of Bud Light or a lychee soju punch while Top 40 hip-hop blasts through the room, which resembles a Harford T.G.I. Friday's (beer posters and neon sign galore). A
28 W. 32nd St, between Broadway and Fifth Ave., 212-714-2266

Bonbon Chicken
The chicken arrived cold—strike one, two and three. KFC is a made-to-order foodstuff and, after a seven-minute wait, I assumed mine was being made-to-order while I sat at one of the three extremely hard seats. The menu at this new-ish Tribeca takeout spot is as bare-bones as it gets: Choose between small ($6.95), medium ($11.95) and large ($18.95); wings/drums/strips; sweet/spicy sauce. Throw a tasteless roll on top of the limp, lifeless box of “spicy” chicken and you’ve got an (original) recipe for disaster. D
98 Chambers St., between Broadway and Church Sts., 212-227-2375

BBQ Chicken
A widely popular chain in Korea (and the world—there are over 3,500 locations in 37 countries), BBQ stands for “Best of the Best Quality Chicken” and made its Manhattan debut in September. The supposed twist is that the chicken is cooked using “the finest extra virgin olive oil,” which makes the chicken a strikingly gorgeous golden brown. But once the beautiful crust hit the palate, things went south. Or rather, things really didn’t go far—this was some flavorless chicken. No seasoning. No spice. The meal fell flat, even with the interesting (but only on paper) mac-and-jack and pepper munchers, two fatty bar snacks that tasted of freezer burn. And the service was horrible. After waiting for over 30 minutes for two boxes and two sides, Dopey Server No. 1 apologized, claiming that he had “lost” the order. Problem was, 30 seconds prior, his colleague, Dopey Server No. 2, apologized that the order was almost ready. When confronted with his minor fib, No. 1 shrugged. With 3,500 locations, you’d figure the employees’ manual would have instructions on how to lie properly. D−
232 Seventh Ave., between 23rd and 24th Sts.; 917-606-1415