My mom’s and gramma’s southern fried chicken was the best, but when I was a small kid and very picky eater, my cousin took us to Galatois in the French Quarter of New Orleans for lunch. I looked at the menu and saw nothing that I wanted. The waiters, who were on the side, speaking Cajun (first time I’d ever heard it) came over to take our order. When one of them saw my dilemma, he asked me if I liked chicken. He then promised that the chef would make me a special dish that he guaranteed I would like. It came out on a huge plate and I have no idea what the dish was, but it was a pile of chicken in a cream sauce that was unbelievable and loaded with vegetables Absolutely the best I’ve ever had. I guess it could have been anything, since it was someone’s kindness that gave it to me. I also like hearing the language and music to this day.