Sept. 18: Deep fried
This is a picture of the best fried chicken in the world:
That is Chicken on the Way and you can only get it in Calgary, which is the best city in the world. Chicken on the Way is five billion times better than KFC. Colonel Sanders killed himself after tasting Chicken on the Way and realizing that his chicken was barf.
Chicken on the Way is deep fried. It is probably bad for you but since I am only in Calgary about two times a year, I always indulge.
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I am proud of the fact that I have made a number of Chicken on the Way devotees. My brother, Jason, Dessi, and many others have all been turned on to the golden fried awesomeness that is Chicken on the Way.
They also make corn fritters.
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In 1997, I wrote and directed a play called Flight Lounge. It ran at the Calgary one-act play festival and it made use of 16 actors. The play was a piece of shit. To this day, I am astonished that 16 actors agreed to be in it and take direction from clueless 24-year-old me.
At the dress rehearsal, I brought in a 50-piece box of chicken from Chicken on the Way. No one wanted any. I was shocked.
But my brother and I ate a lot of chicken that week.
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Last weekend I was at the Vankleek Hill Food Festival in Vankleek Hill, which is a fine place to hold the Vankleek Hill Fodd festival.
There was one booth that was selling deep fried Mars bars and deep fried Oreos and deep fried Snickers.
And now I hear that a real treat at carnivals is deep fried butter.
I think I'll die now.
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During the summer of 1993, I worked, briefly, at a place called the Steer Inn in Bragg Creek. The place was run by a cranky middle aged couple and their crankiness is why I only worked there for a week.
I decided to leave after the man yelled at me for making too many French fries.
A family of six came into the restaurant and they all wanted burger platters. When I heard this, I filled a cage with raw French fries and dropped them into the bubbling lard. When they came up, the man took one look and started screaming at me.
"YOU MADE WAY TOO MANY FRIES!!!" he yelled. "THAT'S TWICE AS MUCH AS WE NEED TO SERVE THESE PEOPLE!!! YOU JUST WASTED A WHOLE BUNCH OF FRIES!!!"
He yelled and screamed some more and, after the family left (a couple of them looked horrified after the dude started screaming) he made a point of disposing of those French fries right in front of me.
"Look at that," he yelled, pointing at the poor uneaten French fries lying in the garbage can. "No one's ever going to eat those. That's money wasted."
Another day, I was washing dishes when the man told me I had a phone call. It was my dad. Someone had called the house and asked if I'd be able to do a magic show the next day. I told him I couldn't do it because I had to work.
After i hung up, the restaurant owner, who was eating a bowl of Raisin Bran, asked me who was on the phone.
"My dad."
"What did he want?"
"He said someone wanted me to do a magic show tomorrow but I told him I couldn't do it because I was working here."
I was hoping the guy would say "aww that's too bad" or "I know how much you like to do magic shows so I appreciate the sacrifice" but instead, he flipped his lid.
"If you get one more personal call here, you are fired," he said. "I'm sure you wouldn't appreciate it if you were doing a magic show and I walked right out onstage and told you that you had to come work at the restaurant, would you?"
I didn't answer. I thought it was a rhetorical question. But the dude was demanding an answer.
"No," I said, smiling sweetly. "I would not."
Really, what I wanted to say was that the two situations had completely different dynamics. The phone call with my dad took about ten seconds. All that really happened was that it took ten seconds longer for me to finish washing the dishes. If Mr. Raisin Bran Genius Burger Master walked out on stage while I was doing a magic show, he would have upset the audience. He probably would have been booed.
-
The restaurant is gone now. I bet that couple lives in a retirement home now and I bet they spend all their spare time complaining.
-
I am craving Chicken on the Way. Ihhhhh.
That is Chicken on the Way and you can only get it in Calgary, which is the best city in the world. Chicken on the Way is five billion times better than KFC. Colonel Sanders killed himself after tasting Chicken on the Way and realizing that his chicken was barf.
Chicken on the Way is deep fried. It is probably bad for you but since I am only in Calgary about two times a year, I always indulge.
-
I am proud of the fact that I have made a number of Chicken on the Way devotees. My brother, Jason, Dessi, and many others have all been turned on to the golden fried awesomeness that is Chicken on the Way.
They also make corn fritters.
-
In 1997, I wrote and directed a play called Flight Lounge. It ran at the Calgary one-act play festival and it made use of 16 actors. The play was a piece of shit. To this day, I am astonished that 16 actors agreed to be in it and take direction from clueless 24-year-old me.
At the dress rehearsal, I brought in a 50-piece box of chicken from Chicken on the Way. No one wanted any. I was shocked.
But my brother and I ate a lot of chicken that week.
-
Last weekend I was at the Vankleek Hill Food Festival in Vankleek Hill, which is a fine place to hold the Vankleek Hill Fodd festival.
There was one booth that was selling deep fried Mars bars and deep fried Oreos and deep fried Snickers.
And now I hear that a real treat at carnivals is deep fried butter.
I think I'll die now.
-
During the summer of 1993, I worked, briefly, at a place called the Steer Inn in Bragg Creek. The place was run by a cranky middle aged couple and their crankiness is why I only worked there for a week.
I decided to leave after the man yelled at me for making too many French fries.
A family of six came into the restaurant and they all wanted burger platters. When I heard this, I filled a cage with raw French fries and dropped them into the bubbling lard. When they came up, the man took one look and started screaming at me.
"YOU MADE WAY TOO MANY FRIES!!!" he yelled. "THAT'S TWICE AS MUCH AS WE NEED TO SERVE THESE PEOPLE!!! YOU JUST WASTED A WHOLE BUNCH OF FRIES!!!"
He yelled and screamed some more and, after the family left (a couple of them looked horrified after the dude started screaming) he made a point of disposing of those French fries right in front of me.
"Look at that," he yelled, pointing at the poor uneaten French fries lying in the garbage can. "No one's ever going to eat those. That's money wasted."
Another day, I was washing dishes when the man told me I had a phone call. It was my dad. Someone had called the house and asked if I'd be able to do a magic show the next day. I told him I couldn't do it because I had to work.
After i hung up, the restaurant owner, who was eating a bowl of Raisin Bran, asked me who was on the phone.
"My dad."
"What did he want?"
"He said someone wanted me to do a magic show tomorrow but I told him I couldn't do it because I was working here."
I was hoping the guy would say "aww that's too bad" or "I know how much you like to do magic shows so I appreciate the sacrifice" but instead, he flipped his lid.
"If you get one more personal call here, you are fired," he said. "I'm sure you wouldn't appreciate it if you were doing a magic show and I walked right out onstage and told you that you had to come work at the restaurant, would you?"
I didn't answer. I thought it was a rhetorical question. But the dude was demanding an answer.
"No," I said, smiling sweetly. "I would not."
Really, what I wanted to say was that the two situations had completely different dynamics. The phone call with my dad took about ten seconds. All that really happened was that it took ten seconds longer for me to finish washing the dishes. If Mr. Raisin Bran Genius Burger Master walked out on stage while I was doing a magic show, he would have upset the audience. He probably would have been booed.
-
The restaurant is gone now. I bet that couple lives in a retirement home now and I bet they spend all their spare time complaining.
-
I am craving Chicken on the Way. Ihhhhh.
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