If it wasn’t for the magical, hidden Chick-Fil-A at NYU, Chick-Fil-A would probably have made its way into the ranks of Zaxby’s in terms of “Restaurants I Really, Really, Really Miss”. However, for the low, low price of $50k/year, I had access to the one known Northern Chick-Fil-A. Granted, this Chick-Fil-A, as part of NYU’s food court, consisted of only the most rudimentary CFA staples: fries, sandwich, nuggets, salads, lemonade, homophobia (WHOA WHOA SO TOPICAL). Being the fast foodies we are, as undergraduates, Mary and I did not let long go between our visits to the chickenly Mecca. And we both (vehemently) agreed on one, seemingly arbitrary thing: the Chick-Fil-A pickle’s utility, adverb adverb adverb. The way to eat a Chick-Fil-A chicken sandwich is: order it with a pickle, then remove the … Read entire article »