The problem isn’t that it’s low class (most of the best food is, IMO). The problem is that it tastes terrible.
I’ve never been at a restaurant with someone who ordered the parmi and not heard them complain that it’s “too dry”. No, that’s just what parmi is like. It has to be smothered in sauce to even be edible.
So make it at home. For me the chicken is merely a vessel to carry the sauce and crispy cheese.
@Marsupial @Zagorath
Sounds to me like you just haven’t had a good one?
If not, I’d strongly recommend trying the highest-rated parmas here: https://parma.com.au/
Because the truth is that there’s a world of difference between a great Parma and a mediocre one.
A good quality schnitzel should need no topping. If it’s dry, that’s half the problem right there. And yes, such schnitzels do exist — just ask the Germans and the Austrians.
Ideally, the pub or restaurant menu should offer a pasta with Napoli sauce or margherita pizza. Why? Because the sauce should be flavourful enough to stand on its own.
Now, take that schnitty that stands on its own, add a quality Napoli that carries a dish on its own, with a premium ham and cheese, and you end up with something that’s greater than the sum of its parts.
The only incorrect implementation of Australian-style Chicken Parmigiana is one where the chicken is not schnitzel. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schnitzel
Since every Pub and Restaurant serves some sort of Parmigiana (even the Vegan ones -Eggplant and Vegan Cheese) are acceptable substitutes), it is a good way to determine if the food is any good. Of course since Eggplant and Vegan Cheese always tastes terrible, Vegan Restaurants and Pubs are proof to this rule.
If you order a Parma at a dodgy pub and it is terrible, you can be happy that you didn’t order anything more complicated.
A whole, un-tenderised chicken breast, covered in a spattering of breadcrumbs, a slice of Devon, pizza sauce and some tasty cheese is not a Parmigiana, even though it is often served as one.
That said, the best tasting Parma I have ever had was at a local industrial estate café. It was a deep-fried schnitzel with a slice of sandwich leg-ham, left-over Bolognese (with the meaty bits and onion strained out) and shredded pizza-blend, on a bed of takeaway-shop chips and a salad consisting of fist-fulls of random vegetables from the salad bar.
