Chicago, IL (The Joy of Food) — White Castle is Dante’s tenth circle of hell.
Once upon a time, I lived in Chicago and crossed the threshold of a White Castle a time or two in my ill-advised youth. The faint sewer odor of the steamed semi-translucent ‘patty’ served between two onion-stank slider buns stayed with me, causing me to writhe in pain for years at the mere mention or sight of one of these godforsaken burger joints.
The downside of the upside of having White Castle no where near the west coast is that stupid people (we’ll call them friends) want to pay a visit to the holy shrine of ghetto burger garbage when we travel. As such, walking into White Castle on pain of death as an adult brought back vivid memories of gastrointestinal regret.
In most cases, I would have assumed my natural pose in the fetal position upon arrival, but not on these floors. Much like the kitchen, the rest of the place hasn’t seen the likes of a good scrub in about 25 years. This is obvious from the exterior, which looks more like an outhouse than it does a place to eat.
Patrons are also subjected to slow service, botched orders, and the employees scratching their own private parts while working the drive-thru window. This is a culinary gem that truly ticks all the boxes.
According to the White Castle website, “White Castle is more than a company. It’s an experience that transcends time, space and sometimes, rational thought.” To that list of things transcended, I’d add the mental health of people who willingly come here.
Nope. Eat literally anything else.
Written by Joy
Thanks for reading. The Joy of Food blog celebrates eating well, traveling often, and living la dolce vita. San Diego, California is home base, but thoughts are from all over. Reviews and photos help to highlight wonderful (or not) food experiences from around the world.
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