So it's nine o'clock on a Saturday night and a couple of friends and me are walking into the grand opening of the Pasadena branch of:

Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles

"My God," says a person I'm with. "It is real."

You're darn-tootin' it is. Good chicken, great waffles. Soul food in the sleazy part of town.

I'd first heard about Roscoe's when it got a gratuitous reference in the movie "Tape Heads." Two young video producers make an ad for the place, part of which runs like this:

Roscoe's the name and the call me the king,
Grandmaster of the chicken and the waffle thing,
I said now read my lips and, friends, don't miss a word,
'Cause the grandmaster's gonna... give your bird.

(Chorus)
Come to Roscoe's for delicious food,
We got fuel for your attitude,
We got the baddest waffle and cluck,
And you get good value for your buck.

Hamburgers are greasy and pizza's plain nasty,
And them little tacos are messy and rasty,
But my chicken's so fine, it'll blow your mind,
It'll shake your hips, it'll pad your behind.

Poultry ain't your bag, well, that don't matter,
'Cause I'm down by law, with my waffle batter.

Stir it up!

(Chorus)

You get the idea.

I had the 18, a thigh and a waffle, and a side-waffle, and a lemonade. Someone got Lisa's Delight, half lemonade and half ice tea, separated, and had to ask if you're supposed to mix it up before you drink it.

The waitress looked at us funny. I suspect we were a little more into the experience that she was.

As we left, we got hard little candies -- I had the purple one -- and got to keep 16-ounce Roscoe's sports bottles.