A Holy Grail Experience With A Chicken Sandwich

Justin Bitner, the Sir Galahad of Dallas foodies, doesn't just review the balsamic chicken sandwich at the Holy Grail Pub in Plano. He's memorialized it. He's poeticized it. He's written the by-God Idylls of the King of reviews of this regal sammich for Dallas Observer's City of Ate.

At the behest of his editor, Scott Reitz, Bitner went a'galloping around town, looking for a great hunk of fowl on bread. He found the $10 one at Holy Grail Pub so perfect, so Lancelot-licious, he lavishes some pretty fine adjectives on it. He goes Medieval on the thing, using the fine old word "smited" to describe the breast of chicken between two yeasty bits of roll. He writes thusly of its proportions: "Oftentimes, chicken sandwiches will feature half of the breast hanging out the side like a Lindsay Lohan court hearing outfit."

Hear, hear, say the Knights who say "Ni" and the rest of us who enjoy a pop culture simile woven into a review replete with references to Monty Python. To wit, Bitner says the pub "sits rather furtively in a giant strip along Preston, just a Rabbit of Caerbannog's leap away from the Stonebriar gargantuplex."

If you've seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail, or its musical theater spin-off, Spamalot, you will know this rabbit of which he speaks. It is a fictional beast, a killer rabbit, making a guest appearance today in Mr. Bitner's prose poem to a killer sandwich.

· Holy $#@& This is a Long Review of a Grilled Chicken Sandwich [City of Ate]

Holy Grail Pub. [Photo: Yelp]