If you are a typical American, especially one who was born and raised here as we were, you probably believe—know—as we did that, Americans have a lock on fried chicken. Then we met Salve Vargas Edelman, who took us to her favorite Manila chicken joint. But this place, Max’s Restaurant, wasn’t in Manila. It was in Las Vegas, in a strip mall, a few miles past Caesars Palace, and it was there that we were fortuitously, deliciously, humbled.