“ Actually the definition of “sandwich” is stretched at Nashville hot chicken joints, since the normal presentation is to drop this napalm poultry bomb on top of two slices of the spongiest white bread to soak up the drippings and top it with a couple of pickle slices—for absolutely no reason at all. After your second bite of hot chicken, you won’t be able to taste a pickle at all as the capsaicin rush activates your “fight or flight” response system, and your body screams for you to stop this punishment at the same time as your brain craves more of the endorphins generated by this plunge into the Maw.
