“You know who has really good fried chicken?”
I couldn’t tell if my uncle Bruce was looking for an actual answer, or if he was about to let me in on a secret.
Uncle Bruce is an excellent cook. He introduced me to the wonders of the twice-baked potato. It was at his Thanksgiving table that I realized a roast turkey didn’t have to be dry. So when uncle Bruce told me he’d found “really good fried chicken” at the unlikeliest of places, I was genuinely intrigued.
“Go to the Albertsons over on the corner of Western and Artesia in Gardena,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. Could I head to any Albertsons market? Or it had to be that one?
“That location,” he said. “Really.”
Behind the grease-stained glass of the Gardena Albertsons deli, I found mountains of golden fried chicken, baked chicken, fried wings and tenders. A woman wielding a pair of long tongs plucked wings, thighs and legs and dropped them into a container. She let me know that, with a few days’ notice, I could preorder 50 pieces, 100 pieces or more for a party. When could I possible need that much chicken?
Then I had an epiphany in the parking lot, mid-bite into a wing.
Wrap the holiday turkey in butter-soaked cheesecloth. Try a dry brine. No, a wet brine. Use a baster. Inject the meat with butter. Start the bird upside down in the oven, then turn it over. Forget all of it. I’m going to serve grocery store fried chicken for Thanksgiving.
Judge, if you must, but as we near the end of a dumpster fire of a year, something’s gotta give. Why serve a dish that requires so much work to make it edible, just because it’s tradition?
Sometimes, the best fried chicken is found at your nearest market. If you’re willing to venture a little farther, here’s a ranking of fried chicken from 10 grocery store chains in and around Los Angeles. And before you ask, I did go to Erewhon. Despite three employees claiming otherwise, and multiple visits, I could not find bone-in pieces of fried chicken at the hot bar.
Most of the market chains will allow you to preorder your chicken in bulk. I’ll be serving a bucket of my favorite grocery store chicken tipped onto a fancy serving platter for the upcoming holidays. In the middle of a table crowded with homemade side dishes and a gravy boat filled with Crystal hot sauce.
How did my uncle’s Albertsons chicken rank among the competitors? Read on to find out.
10. Super A Foods 
An order of fried chicken from Super A Foods in Highland Park.
(Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times )
Though aesthetically pleasing, with a rich, golden hue, the coating clung to the meat like a soft, damp blanket. The chicken underneath was stringy. Too stringy to enjoy, with big strips of dry meat. Price: $7.99 for four pieces.
9. Superior Grocers 
Four pieces of fried chicken from Superior Grocers in Highland Park.
(Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times )
The black flecks of seasoning that blanketed the chicken were promising. Would I be able to taste the sharp, woody black pepper? Was I about to stumble upon market chicken gold? The coating was crisp enough, and fairly well seasoned. But the chicken tasted rubbery, like it had been frozen and reheated, then reheated again. Price: $6 for four pieces.
8. Ralphs 
A small order of fried chicken from Ralph’s market.
(Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times )
This chicken had a feathery coating that was almost powdery across the surface. But even the best dredging and frying techniques couldn’t save the chicken beneath. The meat was bone-dry and tasteless. I stripped the pieces of their crispy skin and enjoyed it as a snack. The remaining meat I shredded and shoved into the middle of a casserole, where it belonged. Price: $5 for four pieces.
7. Vons 
A paper bag full of eight pieces of fried chicken from Vons market.
(Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times )
Oh, Vons, you were so close to greatness. Just short of becoming something I’d crave. The chicken tasted like it had been double-dipped in batter, with a thick, craggy crust and a supernal crunch. It was moist to the point of actually dripping when I took a bite. Then there was a wallop of salt so severe it made my tongue burn. I took a second bite just to be sure, then recoiled from the chicken leg. Maybe it was just that batch. It was the only one I had, so the ranking stands. Price: $10.99 for eight pieces.
A chicken leg from Gelson’s market in West Hollywood.
(Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times )
6. Gelson’s
The chicken from this gourmet grocery store looks like it was plucked from a Norman Rockwell painting. It is the perfect specimen of poultry, with a rough surface cloaked in a pale bronze carapace. The was meat juicy throughout, underneath a shell that retained its crunch, even after a short drive home. But it lacked any real flavor or seasoning and required copious amounts of hot sauce for optimal consumption. And for that, it lands near the middle of the pack. Price: $6.99 for four pieces.
5. Vallarta 
Fried chicken from Vallarta Supermarkets.
(Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times )
The chicken from Vallarta is nearly flawless, if you plan to eat it within minutes of leaving the store. As with all of the chicken, I took a few bites mere seconds after I received the bag or box, in an effort to taste each piece at its freshest. The rugged terrain on the Vallarta chicken meant hills and crevices of crunch. The flesh was the right balance of salty and sweet. It was the ideal fried chicken for exactly five minutes, then it slackened into a heap of grease and meat. The flavor remained pleasurable even in its diminished state. Price: $26.99 for 24 pieces.
4. Stater Bros. 
Four pieces of fried chicken from Stater Bros. market.
(Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times)
The market advertises something called Cleo & Leo chicken at the deli counter. It’s proudly displayed on the signage and the takeout boxes. The name comes from Cleo and Leo Stater, the twin brothers who started Stater Bros. markets in 1936. Cleo & Leo chicken is beautifully crisp, with fragile, scabrous skin. It tends to slide from the meat rather than hold on, leaving some bites with all the fun, and others devoid of skin. Your hands will shine with grease, and your lap will be covered in stray fragments of crust, but you’ll be happy. My only qualm with this chicken was the texture of the meat. It had a soft, almost artificial quality to it that was noticeable about two pieces in. If that doesn’t sound like a deal breaker, invite Cleo & Leo to your party. Price: $6.99 for four pieces.
3. Food 4 Less 
Eight pieces of fried chicken from Food 4 Less market.
(Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times )
The woman behind the deli counter at the Food 4 Less market on North Fair Oaks Avenue in Pasadena beamed with pride when I asked for an order of chicken. “Oh, I just finished making it,” she said. “It’s nice and hot.” She handed over a box folded like a gingerbread house, the bottom and sides radiating heat. The chicken appeared to be double dredged, with a thick, jagged surface of crunchy coating and skin. It was the kind of skin you might be tempted to peel off and eat on its own in the car on the way home. Some of the pieces were a little dry, but I happily ate every piece in its entirety. Price: $8.99 for eight pieces.
2. Pavilions 
Four pieces of fried chicken from Pavilions market in Pasadena.
(Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times )
The Pavilions chicken possessed a multi-layered crunch that set it apart from the rest. A loud, satisfying, cracking crunch from its nubby bronzed veneer. This is grade A picnic chicken that survived its paper bag and 12 hours in the refrigerator. If we were to give an award based on crunch alone, Pavilions would be the victor. The chicken was plump and tender, but the overall flavor was just shy of perfect. If someone in the back sprinkled on a little black pepper, this could have been the winner. Maybe take the chicken home and season it yourself. Price: $6.99 for four pieces.
1. Albertsons 
Fried chicken from the Albertsons in Artesia.
(Myung J. Chun/Los Angeles Times)
Uncle Bruce was right. I visited an additional Albertsons, but the fried chicken from this specific Gardena location was exceptional. My colleagues at the paper finished all 50 pieces I brought to the office for a photo shoot. The chicken is sheathed in an amber crust that’s so brittle, it shatters as you attempt to dismember the pieces. Both the coating and the meat are well-seasoned with black pepper and a medley of spices that mimic the earthy, ultra-savory notes of poultry seasoning. The chicken is wonderfully succulent, with juices that run freely when you tear it apart. It is the best fried chicken you can find at a market in Los Angeles, and the only one I’ll be bringing to my holiday gatherings. Price: $10.99 for eight pieces. $59.99 for 50 pieces.
Where to get the good chicken
Albertsons, 1735 Artesia Blvd., Gardena, (310) 380-4620, local.albertsons.com