What: The fried chicken sliders

Where: Wilma and Frieda, 155 S. Palm Canyon Drive, Palm Springs (dinner menu only)

How much: $10

Contact: 760-992-5080; wilmafrieda.com

Why: It’s comforting.

What is it about good fried chicken that is so comforting? Is it the homey nature of the food? The fact that it’s not exactly, uh, healthy? Or is it just that it’s so darned tasty?

Beats me. All I know is that the version on the sliders at Wilma and Frieda’s Palm Springs is fantastic.

The menu description is simple: “Our signature fried chicken medallions with pickle, onion and Old Bay aioli.” At first glance, that description sums up everything about the sliders (other than mentioning the presence of the buns, the existence of which goes without saying). But look closer—specifically, at those “signature fried chicken medallions.” That aforementioned description mentions nothing about the batter on the chicken—and it’s the star of this figurative show. Not only is it nicely seasoned; it’s wonderfully crispy, and hearty enough to stand up to the moisture of the aioli.

I only have one problem with this dish: Why are the sliders only on the dinner menu? I could see myself having these for breakfast or lunch … or, well, anytime.

I am far from the only fan of these sliders. Case in point: On our recent dinner visit, three members of our party of four got the sliders … as our main course. (The only holdout is on a strict diet and eschewing anything with the word “fried” in it, the poor soul.)

Wilma and Frieda is best known for its breakfast/brunch fare—but if you haven’t tried out the restaurant’s dinner offerings at the Palm Springs location, it’s time you do so. The service is first-rate; the view from second-story location overlooking Palm Canyon Drive (and the creepy Sonny Bono statue!) is lovely; and the food is delicious—and oh so comforting.

Jimmy Boegle

Jimmy Boegle is the founding editor and publisher of the Coachella Valley Independent. A native of Reno, Nevada, the Dodgers fan went to Stanford University intending to become a sportswriter—but fell...