The cooks drop the chicken breast in the fryer a few seconds after
taking your order, and so you must pay it the same respect. Do not ― on
pain of disillusionment ― leave the restaurant with a paper-wrapped
bundle. It's a simple sandwich, with a soft bun and a lemon-brightened
cabbage-carrot-fennel slaw, and the source of its brilliance is the
complementary crunches of the blistering-hot breading and the cool slaw.
Does Macellato's fried-chicken sandwich taste an awful lot like Bakesale Betty's?
Why, yes it does. But Bakesale Betty is eight miles east of North
Beach, while you are on the corner of Columbus and Jackson, ravenous and
pacing. The moment the cooks hand you the sandwich, walk straight to
one of the cafe's rickety tables and dig in.