KFC is what they call "Kentucky Fried Chicken" these days. I go there about once every five years just to remind myself why I go so infrequently. I really like to bite into a nicely fried piece of chicken, but KFC may not be the best place to do it.
They get you good for wanting a breast; the extra cost is signficant. Plus, I never have figured out who taught these guys how to cut up a chicken. They don't do it like we do it at home. They do it so as to not waste the back; they cut it up so several people get pieces of the back.
My chicken was nice and hot, but the mashed potatoes were luke-warm and the biscuit was nearly cold. The "baked" beans weren't too bad, but the vinegar in them had been laid on with a heavy hand.
They have a couple of different kinds of coating you can get on the outside. There's regular and extra crispy. I like things crispy; that's a big reason I like fried chicken. The problem is, with KFC's extra crispy, the coating is so thick on the outside that the skin under the coating may not be as thoroughly cooked as the regular coating. I'd forgotten that from my last visit, only to have to relearn it tonight.
One trend that annoys me somewhat is the increasing tendency at fast food joints of having counter people who can barely speak English. I often have questions about items on the menu, and sometimes these newly-arrived don't understand me. If it isn't on a pre-programmed button on their cash register, they cannot explain it.
Some but not all KFC stores have a fairly good little chicken pie. These are not made in the store, but are frozen and come from Pillsbury. They aren't too bad and it's difficult for workers to foul them up.
One other complaint about KFC is the thing called a "spork" which is a combination of a spoon and a fork but not really good for either function. Now really, is it all that difficult to keep two different table tools, instead of being really cheap and providing only the one combination tool? Wendy's seems to be able to pull it off. And, if you want a plastic knife to cut up your chicken (like my wife does), forget it. Bring your Swiss Army knife.