CheekyChicago

I understand Harold and Kumar. I really do. After 26 years of life, I understand their utter, absolute and undying need for……..

White Castle.

I, too, would jump through hoops, combat fiery cars, climb fences and fight movie-stars for those deeeeelicious sliders.

Hailing from the east coast, my life has been devoid of White Castle…until now. Although I know you can find them in our wonderful Midwestern town, it took my recent trip to Nashville to finally jump on the burger-lovin’ bandwagon.

After honky tonky-ing it up (that’s a real, Southern expression, by the way) at the bars on Broadway Street in Nashville and after minimal food intake for the day (the three Southwest pretzel packs didn’t quite do it), we needed some food. Big time. And then – as if sent from heaven – this castle of white appeared just past the red light. Suffice it to say, the cabdriver need not be told twice that we were making a pit stop.

I have to admit: I think of myself as a foodie – not a food snob, but a foodie. However, the snob in me was not at all amused by the idea of bringing fast food hamburgers back to the Embassy Suites at 3 am. I’m not just talking about a few burgers here either – we’re talking “The Crave Case.” What is “The Crave Case,” you ask? It is a briefcase-shaped box of 30 – 30 – little WC burgers.

I’m not sure if it was the intoxicatingly greasy aroma, the cheese, the grilled onions or the already-squirted ketchup, but I became drunk that very early morning in the “Music City” – drunk off of the best mini-burgers on earth. Ask my Nashville-ian travel companions or my boyfriend if I’ve spoken of/gushed about much else since that fateful night.

So, it took a trip to Nashville, my getting over this morbid fear of fast food burgers and a few too many beers for me to finally experience the wonderment of White Castle. Harold and Kumar are most certainly on to something…