Tallow @ Fresh Grocer
1000 S Easton R.
Wyncote, PA
August 18, 2026
Inside of the Fresh Grocer in Wyncote, PA, is a chicken spot that does sandwiches, wings, biscuit sliders, and fries, all cooked in 100% beef tallow. The "clean-eating" restaurant is, naturally, called Tallow. The culinary equivalent of lard, tallow is the rendered fat of cows, sheep, or other ruminating animals. I’m gonna say this now: In this high-protein, meth-user influenced, GLP-1 world, you’re going to often be pushed to do things that are not in your best health interest, under the guise that they are. I’m not a doctor or a nutritionist. What I am is a 30-something man who is here for a good time, not a long time. I don’t go to the gym, I drink alcohol, and as a result, my weight fluctuates as often as foreign currency exchange rates. Beef tallow is 50% saturated fat. I’m not writing this under some delusion that this will be a healthy alternative to anything.
What I’m here to do is tell you that this food is fucking gas, and worth the drive out to Wyncote if you can make it. The physical manifestation of chef and owner Abe Ibrahim’s personal food and health journey, Tallow started in 2025, but Ibrahim’s clean-eating dedication dates back to 2015 when he shifted his diet entirely in order to lose weight. When COVID hit, Ibrahim used the boredom during quarantine to start a frozen food company before turning that company into a fast food restaurant. When Ibrahim took a break from hand-preparing each incoming order to tell me that his ingredients and prep methods are cleaner than any fast food restaurant, I believed him.
“We use grass-fed butter instead of soybean oil, we use honey instead of sugar for all our sauces. Every little thing you can think of, we’ve checked it off,” he emphatically explained before repeating the one of the restaurant’s mottos: “because we are trying to fix fast food.”
I first heard about Tallow when I should have been asleep, but instead was partaking in one of my Late Night Discovery Sessions, otherwise known as doomscrolling on Instagram. What doom was I brought to, however, when I laid eyes on the glistening fried chicken cutlets on the @tallowphiladelphia page? At the time, they were located in the Shop Rite on Island Avenue, but they've since relocated. For one dark moment, I thought they had closed or moved on, as many startups do, and I nearly resigned to hopelessness before I learned of their move to Wyncote after a deeper look. When I walked into that Fresh Grocer and saw the Tallow signage from its entrance, I knew I was to meet my salvation. When I was first in view of the menu, I nearly blacked out. I had so many choices. I knew I needed both a sandwich and wings.
I also knew I had to skip the loaded fries. If I didn’t, they would likely be inside me for a minimum of four days. Same goes for the hot honey queso chicken sandwich. Thankfully, the menu somewhat eschews the unnecessarily long lines of ingredients and modifiers that plague the world of chicken these days and focuses on the important things, like how many different ways honey can be made into a sauce? I ended up going with a hot honey chicken sandwich, and a 10-piece wing split between the chipotle maple dry rub and hot honey butter sauce. If you don’t ask for a 5-5 flavor split when ordering wings, you’re likely wasting your life.
Although everything took about 25-30 minutes to prepare, I could taste each minute and the dedication present therein. The seasonings sparkled on each amber colored wing like a VVS diamond. The sauce pooled at the bottom, prompting a re-coating with each bite. Crispy on the outside, tender and juicy on the inside, and also piping hot. The expression on my face after bite one, I know, was one of contentment and mirth. On my tongue however, this was happening.
I tore through the box, the perfect ratios of sweet and savory were a delight in both the hot honey sauce and chipotle maple rub. The smell that lingered on my fingers a half hour after I was done could honestly be made into a cologne. After I was done, I drizzled the remaining sauce onto the sandwich, which would accompany me home. XL-certified shit only round here. The sandwich, rapturously moist inside even after roughly an hour and a half, was also still crunchy through each bite, and made so that much more by the coleslaw it was topped with. The drizzle had soaked through the bottom bun, softening it to the consistency of warm pound cake. Chef Ibrahim also included three cups of his homemade ranch, which went perfectly with the sandwich, wings, and fries.
He told me before sending me on my way, “If it’s not the best chicken you’ve ever had, give us one star.” I don’t think I’m ready to give it the crown, but how could I give this one star?
