Now, I would assume you are are here looking for the story, yes?
Good. Let me tell you the tale of Mr Frango and his epic chicken.
Picture this, you have been been out drinking long into the night. The kind of drinking that shouldn't really be allowed. The kind of drinking that leads you to making terrible life decisions involving black tequila and sweaty night clubs. You eventually find your bed and gracefully pass out half dressed.
Hours go by and your heavy libation induced slumber is shattered by the crowing siren of your uncharged phone on the floor next to you. You have to work. You have to work hung over. In the hazy flurry of the last of last nights euphoria wearing off you manage to throw your clothes on and run to catch the bus and make your way to the dreaded 8 hour shift that you are in no fit state to be engaging in.
You sink a black coffee and come to terms with the fact that you are not going to be able to leave this paid prison until at least the early evening.
As the day drags on and your body groans with regret, your thoughts turn to food. Particularly, what food will be able to remedy this miasmic plague that has befallen you. It strikes you like a delicious thunderbolt - Chicken. Grilled chicken. Grilled chicken and wholesome rice and crispy golden fries.
The end of the day comes and you skip to the bus, knowing that when you arrive home, you are going to indulge in some fine Portuguese cooking. But from where? You rack your brain for places that would send out some little packages of edible glory. Nothing seems right. Like a flash, you whip out your phone and after a quick google you read about the fabled 'Mr Frangos'.
You dispel the niggling thoughts in the back of your mind and you disregard the negative reviews of terrible the food snobs. You order a mountain of delectable chickeney goodness. It arrives in less time than it takes for you to watch a cat play a piano on youtube. You thank the messenger profusely and take your bag of wonder inside.
Upon opening, all of the scents of savoury scrumptiousness fill the air. You can hardly wait to tear into the offering. Almost without taking breath you begin. The rice, perfectly cooked and spiced with skilful balance. The fries, crispy, soft in the middle and salted to a sharpshooter's level of accuracy. And the chicken... by god... the chicken. It is tender, golden, filling and mouth watering. It feels like your hard day and your hang over have been lifted by some divine poultry sorcery.
With a full belly and a happy face you fall into a deep slumber. Dreaming of how fabulous the meal you were lucky enough to just eat was.
So there you have it. That is the tale of Mr Frangos. The next time you choose to order chicken, heed this tale and choose correctly.
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