In this age of gourmets, gourmands, and fanciful gastrointestinal delicacies, I feel that I am judged harshly by my peers because I want some goddamn cheese fries.  Not fries that have shaved asiago cheese and truffle oil with a sprinkling of sea salt and side of aioli.  Cheese fries.  Cheddar on deep fried potato slices.  Sour cream or ranch on the side.  Go ahead and throw on some bacon.  But that is it.  Fatty, delicious and straight to all the places that make your pants too tight.  If this person in the booth next to me takes up the entire side by themselves all the better.  This crap should make you fat.  That’s how you know you are in the right place.  But “ambiance” aside, the first bite should be enough.  I know when I like something…because it tastes good.

In the last few years Chicago seems to have turned into a city of food gimmicks.  Stores that sell only cupcakes and frozen yogurt stores on every other corner (I refuse to say froyo…REFUSE).  These are all fine with me so long as they taste good.  It’s that simple.  Is your single cupcake delicious or am I paying $5.00 for some day old hard as s**t frosting shaped like a pair of lips.  I don’t care if you have 100 different toppings if all they are doing is covering up some terrible frozen crap.

Chicago is a city where people are willing to wait in line for hours to get a great meal.  That says something in a town where you have to pack an umbrella and a scarf on any given day.  Have I waited more than 30 minutes for a hot dog?  Hell yeah.  Because it was awesome.  I would do it again.  I would not, however, wait in a line of any length to purchase some overpriced non-dairy ice cream substitute.  If the net result of taking a couple hundred calories out of the dessert is that it tastes awful, then don’t sell it.  Not in my city.  You take your tasteless ice chips to a coast where they belong.  But please, keep your hands off my cheese fries.

By:
Rachel Ford