Is J&G Fried Chicken in Hacienda Heights worth the hype?

The first time I visited the J&G Fried Chicken restaurant in Hacienda Heights, I left without chicken. It was around 2pm on a Saturday and the line of customers filed out the door and into the hallway outside. I estimated there were about 50 people waiting, not counting the people inside.

The restaurant is the first U.S. location of the popular Taiwanese fried chicken chain, opened in partnership with 85 Degrees Bakery Cafe. It started on Taichung's Jiguang Street in 1973 and has grown to include more than 400 stores worldwide. The April opening sparked a frenzy with near-constant lines for the restaurant's signature popcorn chicken, chicken sandwiches and chicken tenders.

But when I saw the crowd from my car, I aborted the mission.

However, the appeal of a flattened, pancake-sized fried chicken thigh is persistent and strong. I came back around 1pm on a Tuesday determined to get my chicken.

My hopes rose when I found only six people in line. I don't understand how those six people managed to take about 5 minutes each to order from a menu that features only five varieties of fried chicken. Well, after walking through the door, I was finally grabbing my bag of chicken.

First I chose the filet ($7.99), hidden in a paper sleeve. The two women at the table next to me were halfway through their steaks, the paper protecting their fingers as they ate and chatted. It wasn't as huge as the ones you'll find at 626 Night Market or real night markets in Taiwan. I'm still grieving the loss of Smorgasburg's Hot Star vendor, whose specialty was the XXL chicken cutlet.

J&G's version is a suitable substitute with its vast uneven terrain sheathed in small golden spheres of brittle shell. The chicken thigh is mashed, like a colossal piece of popcorn chicken crashing onto the kitchen counter. The crunch factor is high, but it's still juicy enough to drip when you tear off a corner. Although I ordered the spicy steak, there was only a whisper of spiciness from what tasted like white pepper instead of chili.

The popcorn chicken ($5.99) is wrapped in a delicate dough reminiscent of McDonald's chicken nuggets and State Fair funnel cake. Each piece is a little sweet and bursts into a mixture of juice and hot fat.

Original chicken sandwich from J&G Fried Chicken in Hacienda Heights.

(Jenn Harris/Los Angeles Times)

The Original Chicken Sandwich ($5.99) is on par with your favorite fast-food fried chicken sandwich: soft bun, sizable chicken fillet, pickles, and mayonnaise-based sauce. If you were paying attention to the fast food fried chicken wars and need to know, the chicken in the Popeyes sandwich is crispier.

There's a yuzu variety ($7.49) that I plan to try next time, and a smoked salmon chicken sandwich ($8.99) that I couldn't order on a Tuesday. If slices of smoked salmon on a fried chicken filet with a slice of pineapple, a pile of slaw, some red onions and honey mustard sauce sound appealing, visit on a weekend when it's available.

Cartilage ($6.99) is the chicken I'd be willing to wait the longest for. You get the satisfaction of popcorn chicken with the extra soft crunch of cartilage.

If you want to avoid the crowds, reserve some time during the week for your visit. Unless you want that smoked salmon and pineapple chicken sandwich. For that, you will have to wait in line.