Sylvia's: Soul food minus the soul

On one of my first half-day Fridays (how I love my company's summer hours) I made plans with BH and JSK to have lunch. I'd heard Sylvia's is one of those Harlem tourist spots that rides more on reputation than deliciousness, but when BH suggested the place I figured I ought to find out for myself.

It was a gorgeous, sunny day, and since I had time to kill I walked around for a while before finally meeting up with the two of them at the restaurant.

Inside Sylvia's, the restaurant's long history felt palpable, in a good way. Little aura of franchising here, except for the bottles of Sylvia's hot sauce sitting on the tables.

Almost immediately after we sat down, a basket of golden cornbread was delivered to the table, pleasantly nubbly and just sweet enough. Could have been moister, but as I was famished by that point, I scarfed down a square before reminding myself that there was a lot more coming.

I ordered the Chicken and Waffle plate with smothered chicken. When the crisp Belgian waffle came out on a separate plate from the bird, I decided to skip the butter and syrup and to combine the two...

...creating the proper delivery of "chicken and waffle," at least in my mind. Though later I understood why they come separately; the waffle soaked up the gravy and soon became a sodden mess, prompting me to fork the mushy remains to the side and finish my chicken with the cornbread instead.

As for taste, the chicken was fine, the waffle average. The gravy was a bit too salty. I took some forkfuls of BH's mac 'n' cheese and JSK's potato salad (which looked exactly like mashed potatoes, so I did a double-take when I realized I was eating potatoes with mayo instead of buttery mash), and on the whole, the food was okay but nothing spectacular. I parted ways with the boys not quite feeling mentally satisfied by my meal, but at least later I went on to the miracle fruit party, a taste-trip thorough enough to cover all of the day's eats.