Disclaimer: Before writing this story, I’d only been to Cheesie’s completely sauced (usually post-debauchery at La Macc).I LOVE Cheesie’s – I’m convinced The Mac, the chicken tenders (don’t sleep on ‘em) and the cheese curds came directly from heaven. I’m getting hungry just writing about them. The thing is, when you're drunk, virtually any food tastes good. Do I normally like Rice Krispie treats? No, but I sure did enjoy eating an entire box of them last weekend after four shots of vodka. It’s kind of like when you hook up with someone at the Deuce convinced they’re superrr hot only to look them up on Facebook the next morning and see a huge uggo staring back at you. Is Cheesie’s a secret uggo too? In the name of science, I set out to discover if Cheesie’s is only delicious under the influence or if the greasy goodness is truly an above-the-influence culinary masterpiece.
I went to Cheesie’s on a Wednesday at 5:15 p.m. because ~pro tip~ sandwiches are 50 percent off on Wednesday if you buy a side and a drink. In what can only be classified as the deal of the century, my friend and I got three sandwiches, two drinks and two sides for $24. Baller moves only. We tried The Frenchie, The Tenderizer, El Jefe, seasoned fries and tots. I was pleasantly surprised to find that, besides the Frenchie (a tasteless, baked potato wannabe mess), everything was quite tasty. The Tenderizer was sweet and tangy.
The fries were crispy and addicting. And the El Jefe – WOW, just WOW. Imagine if a cheesy gordita crunch from Taco Bell impregnated a really good grilled cheese. There was ground beef, crunchy jalapenos, Fritos (texture=A+) and deliciously melty chihuahua cheese. To top it off, the whole sandwich was WRAPPED IN A CHEESE QUESADILLA. Boy can like, get it. Verdict: While eating $20 worth of Cheesie’s will put you in the worst of food comas, it’s (mostly) delicious sober. I know where I’m celebrating my birthday this year!
After throwing a housewarming party at my apartment in which a window was broken (thanks Steven!), the crew and I walked a block to Cheesie's, because, yup, I live that close. For a Friday at 2 a.m., it wasn’t super crowded. Shocker: Northwestern kids really are lame. Anyway, I ordered The Popper with the intent of also stealing bites of The Mac, chicken tenders and cheese curds my friends ordered (everyone’s more generous after a few beers). The food was as delicious as ever, in the way that everything is awesome when drunk. The girl you just met in the bathroom? Prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. The song playing at the clerb? Favorite song of all time. This sandwich I’m eating at Cheesie's? I want it to be my last meal on Earth, damnit. I devour The Popper, which, fun fact, I order every time I’m drunk. Every time, I cry because it’s so spicy. Well - not tonight! I don’t know if I’m becoming less white or if God’s light was shining down on me, but I pull it together and bite into a jalapeño without shedding a single tear. Go me! Verdict: Cheesie’s is perfect. Don't @ me.