The F.K.F.C sandwich, featuring spicy-sweet glazed fried chicken on a fresh-baked biscuit, at Finestkind in Saco. Photo by Tim Cebula

When Tom Barthelmes, chef and co-owner of Finestkind in Saco, first came up with the name for his outstanding fried chicken sandwich, he went with initials to keep it simple: F.K.F.C., standing for Finestkind Fried Chicken.

“I did not mean it as a pejorative to KFC,” he says now with a sheepish smile, adding that he only realized how else the name might be construed when a customer came in one day and asked for the “(expletive) KFC” sandwich. “I think it’s funny, so I’m embracing it, but that was not my original intent.”

Regardless of what you call it, the F.K.F.C. is a must-try at Finestkind, from a menu loaded with can’t-miss options. The sandwich is set on a truly superior buttermilk biscuit, baked fresh every day from co-owner Victoria Barthelmes’ recipe. She says her secret is “lots of heavy cream. The cream and buttermilk bind it; the butter is just in there to make beautiful leavened pockets.” Still, the butter flavor shines through in these delectable biscuits, tender as a poet’s heart inside, with flaky golden crust.

Barthelmes marinates his chicken thighs overnight in a brine of buttermilk and pickle juice from their house-made pickles, then fries them with a panko coating that becomes audibly crunchy. Then he glazes the fried chicken with a lightly sweet, medium-spicy blend of honey, gochujang, house-fermented Fresno chilies and a touch of confited garlic oil – talk about finger-lickin’ good.

The sandwich also benefits from Finestkind’s cured yolk mayo, which Barthelmes modeled after Hollandaise sauce. He cures egg yolks for a week in a mix of salt, sugar, thyme and pepper, then purees the yolks with lemon juice, cayenne and butter. Jardinière-pickled slices of green tomatoes lend a lovely tangy note that cuts through the richness of the sandwich’s fattier components.

Because the biscuit is so tender, it sort of breaks apart, and the sandwich becomes a knife-and-fork affair halfway through. This doesn’t detract from the delight of eating it one bit (if it’s good, I find a messy sandwich more fun anyway). Besides, it’d have to be one tough biscuit to stay together for the duration.

The F.K.F.C doesn’t deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as a fast-food product – it’s a smartly conceived, well-executed dish on every level. I lived in the Deep South for more than a decade, and I have to say I’d have enjoyed my stay much more if I had discovered a chicken and biscuit experience as good as this one.

F.K.F.C. sandwich, $15, Finestkind, 17 Pepperell Square, Saco, finestkindmaine.com