Though more recent Korean immigrants might scratch their heads (there are only a handful of Bonchon locations in the motherland), thoughtful touches like exclusively offering strips (no) and drumsticks (yes) ease diners into BonChon’s perfect marriage of salty-sweet soy garlic glaze and the schmaltzy, shattering crunch of chicken skin. Waits at its SGV location can range into Howlin’ Rays territory, but Korean fried chicken zealots eagerly crowd the entrance and peer longingly at diners seemingly taking their sweet time inside. It’s all proof positive that BonChon is in a category by itself.

The smell of Kyochon’s garlicky soy-sauce coated fried chicken is famous across the city already, likely emanating from those cute, soon-to-be-empty little white boxes. Its innocent, K-poppy charm would come off as saccharine if there wasn’t so much substance — spicy wings pack a serious punch, and the seemingly tame soy-garlic glaze seems to impart an epic, preternaturally garlic flavor. What Kyochon’s seasoning lacks in subtlety, it more than compensates in addictive flavor.

Dongdaemoon Dakhanmari isn’t just a mouthful in name only — it’s also one of the few places to serve deep-fried Korean rice cakes alongside their fried chicken. Though the restaurant actually specializes in jjimdak (a soy-based Korean chicken stew/meal-in-a-pot) and samgyetang (Korean-style chicken soup), it also does up a mean fried bird. DDM’s rendition is a whole chicken chopped before frying into nugget-like pieces with a trio of dipping sauces. Beware of the embedded bones!

MacArthur Park’s Hoho Chicken actually takes the crumbly-crusted skin of a more traditionally Southern-style of fried chicken preparation and tosses it in a less viscous Korean glaze so that soy garlic and spicy gochujang-based sauces reach every nook and cranny of its crunchy skin. Served with plastic gloves, it’s a welcome change of pace for the smoother-skinned fried birds that are common in the Korean fried chicken genre.

77 Kentucky (pronounced chil-chil-Kentucky) takes its name partially from a famous chain of fried chicken restaurants, but that’s roughly where its similarities to the Colonel end. The restaurant boasts some of the juiciest white meat of any Korean fried chicken restaurant in the city. Add to that a delicious “Chinese chicken” (tossed in a Kung-pao style sauce), and it all might be enough to forgive those creepy menu illustrations that may or may not have have triggered memories of this writer’s old Korean school textbooks.

Chimaek, a Korean portmanteau of chicken and beer that refers to the establishments that serve fried chicken and beer, are as common as convenience stores in South Korea, and ChiMac Star faithfully brings the chimaek experience stateside. With neon lighting and a gastro-pub like ambiance, the restaurant’s not afraid to serve stir-fried chicken gizzards and soojaebi bundaegi, or silkworm larva stew, alongside its stellar fried chicken options.

BBQ Chicken is a loosely-governed (and as such, the largest) franchise of Korean fried chicken shops on earth. The quality of its chicken’s preparation from location-to-location varies wildly, but the honey garlic wings are a generally safe bet. The unique, sweet flavor of honey adds a dimension of flavor to the garlic that’s not as easily found elsewhere.

Though it stakes its claim as being around since 1927 (when it was named The Windsor), The Prince puts out Korean tongdak, or fried paper-skin chicken, that’s become practically synonymous with the restaurant. Tucked into old-school New York steakhouse-like digs that acted as a set for several episodes of Mad Men, it’s one of the city’s most iconic spaces serving out a mean fried bird and affordable (yes, $10 a drink is relatively affordable in this day and age) cocktails.