Downlow Chicken eschews tradition with their approach to chicken sandwiches

You cannot talk about sandwiches in Vancouver without bringing up Downlow Chicken. It’s just not possible. The famous chicken shack at 905 Commercial is an institution. Opened in 2018, there are lines still out the door as people demand their famous chicken sandwiches. 

Anytime I have a chicken sandwich, it brings back memories of driving through South Carolina and Georgia almost 10 years ago, stopping at any and all chicken shops on the side of the road. The thick smell of frying oil was always heavy in the air, most places serving unassuming, simple fried chicken and sandwiches, too-sweet sweet tea, and paired with friendly southern hospitality that made you forget all the stereotypes one hears so often. 

I arrived at Downlow around 11:30 am, only 30 minutes after opening. The shack, as they call it, feels less like a shack and more like a well-oiled machine, prepared to ingest hundreds of visitors and expel ungodly amounts of crispy chicken sandwiches.

In a sense, it does reflect the sensibilities of what you might find in the South. The inside is simple with a few colours, the deep fry station only feet away from the counter, and a large deck with wooden picnic tables. The staff is friendly and chatty. 

Unlike the South, Downlow isn’t really about simplicity. Sure, they have the classic Original, a Nashville dusted chicken sandwich, and serve classic fried chicken like tenders and boneless sides, along with Chicken and Waffles.

But sometimes classics aren’t enough in cities like Vancouver that are brimming with restaurants desperate to find the next trend. Their secret menu includes The Jerry, a double-double meat sandwich at $27; the Boujee, with truffled dust and truffle mayo; and The Chips and Dip, featuring Cool Ranch-dusted chicken. It’s excessive, maybe bordering on grotesque — I despise Cool Ranch — but they’ve clearly tapped into a vein of success. 

It’s easy to imagine a place like Downlow sitting on their laurels, satisfied with their popularity. Unlike the roadside family-run Southern restaurants, expansion is expected, and opening up a location in 2021 at UBC Campus seems like a no-brainer given the popularity of fried chicken. But the team keeps experimenting with their menu, like the AgroDolce, a pizza spice-dusted chicken, with pesto slaw and sweet and sour Italian sauce. I doubt Italians asked for it, but here we are. 

I wanted to focus on the classic, to let the quality of the chicken speak for itself. I ordered the Original, a simple sandwich featuring Nashville-dusted chicken, their DL sauce, sweet and sour slaw, pickles and pickled onions. I get the dark meat, which the friendly cashier informs me is more juicy than the breast, and order the medium spice level.

At $18.25, the sandwich is not cheap. But at least it’s not small. The meat and crust burst forth from the bun like a muffin top from its baking cup, with undulating ridges of deep-fried batter, a rainbow of brownish colours. It’s a thing of beauty. And good luck fitting it in all your mouth.

The accompanying ingredients range in quality. The slaw has a nice sweetness to it but is overpowered by everything else, while the addition of pickled red onions is a great non-traditional addition, complementing the flavours of the pickles. Soft and malleable, the bun is like the classic white bread accompanying southern BBQ but is quickly forgotten as you take a bit.

It’s easy to understand why people love Downlow. Moist, perfectly cooked chicken is encased in a perfect crispy layer, with the right amount of crunchiness in each bite. It’s more crispy than KFC, with a battered texture reminiscent of Korean fried chicken. The flavouring had strong hints of cumin, and the medium spice level didn’t really register on my heat scale. I recommend ordering something hotter. 

While huge, I did expect more chicken than what I got, with more batter than meat. Some may prefer this — you’re coming for the deep-fried chicken, not just chicken — but for $18.25, I’d expected a bit more meat. 

After a few bites, the futility of eating it like a sandwich is clear, as it collapsed in on itself into a gooey, sticky mess of sauce, slaw and battered chicken. Napkins are a must, and it begs the question of whether putting the chicken in a sandwich inside such a small bus is even necessary. Grab a fork, you’ll need it. 

In a city where southern food is hard to come by, Downlow has staked out a spot as a place to experience some of the Southern food that I’ve been chasing. You won’t find a traditional sandwich you’d find in the South, but remixing classic foods is what makes living in a city so addicting, even if it includes * shudder * Cool Ranch.

In many ways, Downlow also symbolizes so much about Vancouver itself. If it’s not Asian food, it may be harder to find a variety of options; one restaurant ends up dominating the niche food landscape; the high cost of what traditionally would be affordable food; and, eschewing tradition in favour of experimentation. 

It’s not the chicken sandwiches I remember from my trip through South Carolina and Georgia. And that’s not a bad thing. Downlow’s sandwiches are a reflection of the city, less about the symbols of small-town southern food, and more about adapting to city tastes. 

Downlow has staked itself as the preeminent chicken sandwich place in Vancouver. It’s a deserved reputation, built on flavourful chicken and an embrace of creativity. It’s a position I doubt will change anytime soon.