The Foodies of G5: Blog Post #2: My Pleasure

There are certain restaurants that are visited with the assumption that a unique experience will accompany the meal. Generally, a fast food restaurant does not fall into this category. You make an unspoken bargain when you walk into a fast food restaurant: In exchange for a quick meal at a cheap price, you agree to carry your own tray, seat yourself, and help clean up afterwards. This kind of establishment has its obvious drawbacks: the food is consumed just as quickly as it’s served, and it’s not exactly in perfect accordance with the food pyramid. Needless-to-say, a fast food restaurant is not usually the establishment of choice; it is most commonly a quick fix when you are scrambling between ballet class and soccer practice. Thankfully, I believe there is one enterprise out there that is changing the game – your neighborhood Chick-fil-A.

“Now would be great,” my hungry friend sarcastically whines from the passenger seat. “Yes, yes, take a left.” I pull into the Chick-fil-A parking lot as I feel my own stomach rumble. To be honest, I am very impartial to the kind of food I consume at this point – something hot and tasty just needs to touch my lips. I smell chicken. As I approach the door, the friendly Georgia Tech paraphernalia and decorations grab my attention. The smiling faces inside seem to be waiting just for me, and they only add to the warm atmosphere. The traditional Chick-fil-A experience is underway.

Truett Cathy opened the Dwarf Grill, which later became Chick-fil-A, in 1946. What started out as the idea of a simple chicken sandwich, made with a boneless chicken breast and two pickle slices, soon grew into one of the largest restaurant chains in the United States. But Cathy and his associates set out to do more than just serve up chicken and fries – one of their corporate goals was to “have a positive influence on all who came in contact with Chick-fil-A”. From this goal springs the dining experience that makes Chick-fil-A special.

“I can take the next customer right here,” proclaims a young man sporting a crisp white button-down with a tie featuring floating waffle fries. His tag claims his name is Alex. “What can I get for you ladies this afternoon?” His pleasant manner is so genuine that I naturally put on a smile myself. After I inform him that we will be “dining in”, I order the chargrilled chicken club sandwich combo with a sweet tea to drink. I contemplate switching my order and substituting a fruit cup, but decide that I’m in the mood for fries. Alex immediately shovels some ice into a cup and fills it with the tea on the counter. He asks if I would like a lemon with my tea, and I gladly accept his offer. He hands me my beverage and repeats my order before telling me the total. I spent less than six dollars, which is well worth what I am about to devour. I give him some cash and tell him thanks. “My pleasure,” he beamed. Now, that’s service with a smile.

My friend asks for the chicken strips combo with a Diet Dr. Pepper. Not many places serve this soft drink, so she always takes advantage of it here. She trades in waffle fries for a medium fruit cup. Part of me wishes I had done the same until the smell of fries drifts my way. Never mind. One of the best parts of Chick-fil-A that any regular customer appreciates and loves is their special array of sauces. There are 15 unique sauces, ranging from the sweet buttermilk ranch to the tangy Polynesian sauce. As usual, Alex inquires if I would like any sauces with my meal. I ask for my beloved Chick-fil-A sauce. I suppose someone gave the sauce this name because it was so unlike any other taste that “Chick-fil-A” was the only word suitable to describe it. It is similar to a mixture of barbeque sauce, mayonnaise, and honey mustard, - making it exactly the right combination of creamy and spicy that stirs my taste buds. If Chick-fil-A sauce was an animal, a chicken sandwich would be its natural habitat. Alex hands me three packets of sauce and I turn to find a table while I wait on my friend.

“There is a booth in that corner, sweetie”, whispers a gray-haired woman carefully sweeping the floor. She points to table across the room. On top, there is a delicate vase filled with white daisies. The booth sits beside a window that is gently letting the sun seep in. I slide onto the cushion, unwrap my sandwich, and try to convince myself to hold off until my friend arrives with her meal. As I wait, I see the same sweet woman coming my way displaying a tray of condiments. “Do you need anything else young lady? Maybe some ketchup or salt?” I pick up a couple packets of ketchup just for her efforts. When I thank her, she responds energetically, “My pleasure!” The energy in the dining room is like that of a community – like all of these strangers are my neighbors. Finally, my friend plops down in the booth, chicken in hand.

My sandwich, served on a soft wheat bun, is adorned with crisp green lettuce, a thick slice of tomato, provolone cheese, and two perfect cuts of fresh bacon. The chicken breast is grilled instead of fried. My hands are moving under their own control as they bring the masterpiece to my mouth. My mouth is pleased. The tenderness of the chicken surprises me almost as much as the crispness of the bacon. The bacon is obviously fresh, not frozen and microwaved which is common for most fast food places. The slight amount of grease from the bacon runs onto the breast which is then smothered by the melted cheese. It is the perfect union. The lettuce and tomato are both still chilled, so the contrast of temperatures in the sandwich makes it all the more satisfying. My fries are staring at me across my tray. I pick one up and dip it in the delectable Chick-fil-A sauce. Waffle fries are not meant to be eaten in one bite, but I can’t manage to only engulf half of it. The fries are golden and flawless. I take another and then another. Now, what is really remarkable about these fries is that they are served perfectly every time, unlike other chains that deliver disappointingly soggy fries one day followed by brown, overcooked fries the next. My friend insists that I try her chicken strips. They have been fried just the right amount, with flaky breading surrounding hot, tender chicken. The fruit is startlingly fresh and juicy, too. I don’t want to stop.

Just as look up to take a break from my feast, and possibly make some conversation, I see Alex approaching our table. “Do either of you need refills? Could you just take the lid off, and I’ll bring it right back,” he claims. I actually haven’t even sipped my tea since I sat down, so I kindly refuse. My food begins to disappear, and my mind wanders towards desserts. A milkshake, I think, definitely. Chick-fil-A offers many desserts including cheesecake, pie, ice cream, fudge brownie, and four different kinds of milkshakes. I order a strawberry milkshake and can’t wait to slurp it down on the way home. It is hand-spun and incredibly creamy – the perfect ending to my meal. “Any refills before you ladies leave?” inquires a new face behind the counter. My friend hands him the drink and watches him fill it with cold Diet Dr. Pepper. She thanks him as he puts the lid back on. “My pleasure” he smiles.