the caniac. i can only describe this place fairly in the form of a story.
i entered the building, unsure of what i had stumbled upon. raising cane's was the title slapped on the building, but the name carried no implications to me. even upon asking my peers about the establishment, no one could give me a logical conclusion relating to the genre of sustenance provided there. all i could conclude from my friends' descriptions was that for excellent food, friendly service, decent prices, and a great time, raising cane's was where i needed to be. i took a deep breath and decided to take a step into the unknown.
posters of classic movies and television shows were neatly hung on every wall - a very american style of decoration. booths lined the walls, several in clever arrangements to account for corners. the floor was spotless - not a drop of soda or a morsel of food. the place was already impressive, before even taking a gander at the food offered. upon approaching the counter, i was greeted with a hearty shout,
"welcome to raising cane's! can i help you?"
"well," i responded, "i suppose i'll have a... 'three finger combo'." the cashier nodded her head, typed in the order, and signaled to the kitchen staff to start cooking. within a few short minutes, they placed a red tray in front of me. a white box sat on the tray, begging to be opened by a ravenous soul. a booth lied in wait, and i obliged its need for an occupant. i took a relaxing breath and opened the box gingerly, taking care not to harm its contents.
a beautiful, succulent collection of fried chicken fingers broke free from its styrofoam prison. i was in awe of the wondrous poultry meal, and began to tear it apart into bite size pieces. the white, juicy meat pulled apart ever so softly, with a glare of moisture and the slight crunch of breading giving way. i brought it to my mouth, took my first bite, and suddenly experienced the euphoric sensation of raising cane's one and only entree - the famous and unmatchable fried chicken. it wasn't long after the first bite that i realized a cup of cane's well-told of sauce was prepared for me to utilize it. i dipped the rest of my piece into the sauce, and took another delicate bite. immediately i knew that the sauce was the reason for the chain's celebrity. i closed my eyes and savored the complexities of what ordinarily is a simply dish; i hesitated to swallow it, as i feared the mortality of its decadency.
inevitably having completed my first venture into raising cane's chicken, i found that my meal was not yet complete. a mass of crinkle-cut fries awaited my judgment. i reached to grab one, and was immediately taken aback by the solidarity of the fries. so perfectly sturdy, yet so softly flexible. i took my first bite, and a feeling reminiscent of the my previous experience revisited me. the saltiness, the crunchiness - everything exactly as it should be at the exact proper moment. i stared at the modest proportion of sauce remaining for my utility. i thought to myself 'it couldn't be good with the fries too… could it', but decided i should take the leap. what came to me was just as amazing as the sauce's effect on the chicken. the contrast of the salted fried potato to the flowing dollop of cane sauce made a beautiful magnetic-styled attraction of opposites.
i thought to myself, "how could this get any better?" and was reminded that i replaced my coleslaw with an extra piece of buttered toast. two puffy rounds sat tenderly in my box, both eagerly awaiting their salivary demise. i took hold of the bread, and began to consume it piece by piece. i felt as though the gods had blessed me with their very own suppers, created by their olympian cooks. the toast was depleted before i even realized i had started eating. the taste had too much power of my body; i could not delay the lifetime before the toasts' consumption. i smiled to myself, confirming it was the best $10 i had ever spent.
i rose to my feet and began to make my way to the trash can. a busboy quickly approached me, politely asked my tray, and took the trash to the can. i grinned. the service was exactly the way it should be in fast food - fast and amiable. the food had been exactly as it needed to be. full of salt and butter, but substantial in its proportions and taste. the atmosphere had led me to exactly what i needed to feel as though i was having an american meal - as there is no other way to describe my trek into cane's. i found that i was eager to spread the word of my new favorite fast food joint, and that i was anticipating a hasty return with friends to increase the already incredibly fun experience. i pushed open the exit door, waved as the staff yelled their salutations, and continued my day with the slightest spring in my step.