I wanted to hate Popeyes’ chicken sandwich, but damn it, it’s good

I was ready — make that itching — to laugh off Popeyes’ brand-new chicken sandwich. The Twitter war between Popeyes and its competitors over bragging rights alone was enough to make me barf.

Plus, all the other heavily hyped “new” offerings from “fast-casual” joints I’ve tried in recent years laid hilarious eggs. Think of McDonald’s pathetically limp “Australian” cheesy bacon fries, Burger King’s horrible hot dog and By Chloe’s even worse “carrot dog.”

Joke’s on me: The Popeyes sandwich is the best news in poultry since the blue foot chicken a few years ago.

It’s super tasty, cheap ($3.99) and impossibly juicy. The buttermilk-battered breast on a fresh brioche bun is as thick as a wrist. It’s salty enough not to need a sprinkle more. Its rare moisture — the element that sets it apart from same-old, similar-looking products from Wendy’s, Chick-fil-A and others — somehow holds up even after a 15-minute trip home.

The Popeyes juice lies not only in the butter on the pillowy brioche bun and the gooey Cajun sauce, but in the actual buttermilk-battered chicken. It’s a miracle in the world of fast-food fowl, which usually has the texture of sand no matter how it’s dressed up with sauces, dips and condiments.

The pleasing mayo ooze amplifies the crackle of the crisp batter and thin-sliced pickles. (Unlike its competitors, Popeyes doesn’t muck up the works with terrible, commercial-grade tomatoes or flavorless greens.) All the elements come together gloriously when you chomp down on the whole megillah.

You win this time, Popeyes.