By Drew Calamaro ‘21 Staff Editor
**Author’s note: Last week, I was led to believe by someone I thought I could trust that the word “dummeranwalt” was German for “Hamburger.” It is not. It means “stupid lawyer.” As an aspiring lawyer, you are fine to call me a sociopath, uninteresting, and you can even call me undeservedly self-serious. But you can never call me stupid. Law students like myself and my readers are not stupid lawyers, and never have been. We are law students, and therefore that insult doesn’t apply to us. I apologize to my readers for publishing that insult.
We are at the end of our journey of finding the tastiest and least problematic chicken sandwich. That being said, it is important to remind the readers that this column’s objective—relating chicken sandwiches to the political landscape—is never truly over. There will always be more things to get offended by and more chicken sandwiches to eat. As a media member, I will never stop asking whether something enjoyed by nearly everyone is problematic.
One other note to all who are concerned; I found a parking garage that gives you free parking for the first hour, since the Virginia Law Weekly will not allot me money for travel, despite repeated requests.1
Draft Taproom – 425 E Main St.
Draft Taproom has over sixty self-serve taps to choose from, which is extremely alarming. Yet another corporation has replaced its bartenders with artificially intelligent pourers. Do you think that these consumers are equipped to choose amongst so many beers, and then pour them without the cup foaming over? I don’t think so. Luckily, I am perfectly capable of pouring beer, and this did not happen to me.
The chicken sandwich here is the classic combination of “Special herbs & spices, shredded lettuce, pickles & Dukes mayo on a brioche bun.” We do not need to revisit here the horror that is the appropriation of the brioche bun. However, given that Taproom lets the proletariat become their own bartenders, it should surprise no one they are stealing French bread like it’s 1789.
The sandwich itself was very pickly—pickled onions and pickled pickles. If you’re looking for a briny, average meal, this is it. But given that Taproom’s AI revolution will lead to riots by disenfranchised bartenders, I rate this sandwich as highly problematic. I give it the full Louis XVI/Louis XVI for problematicness, and a Louis XI/Louis XVI for taste.
One other note to make is that I ate the longest freedom fry I have ever seen in 25 beautiful years of life. If the culmination of Monsanto-engineered crops and pesticides and bee colony collapse disorder is foot-long French fries, I think that we are paying a small price for the benefits we are seeing.
The Fitzroy – 120 E Main St.
Due to the cheapness of certain editors, I had to order this sandwich to-go so that I could leave the parking garage in under an hour and not get charged.2 Travel costs aside, the Fitzroy has a chicken sandwich that is “boneless, buttermilk battered, a little honey and hot sauce.” Confident is the restaurant that chooses not to hide its chicken sandwich behind a veil of lettuce, or rest it on a crutch made out of tomato. This, folks, is pure and honest chicken sandwichery, or chicanery for short.
The sandwich has two fried chicken thighs stacked on top of each other. Perhaps they thought this was a great idea, but unexpectedly getting a pair of thighs covered in honey and hot sauce to the face is not exactly a good time. The sandwich is delicious though, and I give it a 9.1/10 for taste.
However, since Fitzroy is Anglo-Norman for “son of the king,” I also give it a 9.1/10 for problematicness. Great chicken sandwiches should never be gender biased, and this is an anti-nepotism column.
Chick-fil-A – 350 Woodbrook Dr.
I would first like to say that if you haven’t tried the chicken breakfast burrito at Chick-fil-A, you haven’t started living life. But we are here for the chicken sandwich, and more specifically, the “spicy deluxe meal (Chick-fil-A sauce included) with a large fry and an ice water.”
It seems that Chick-fil-A’s sandwiches has ruffled the feathers of my media colleagues over at The New York Times and The Washington Post. I, for one, choose to be open minded about my chicken, and do not discriminate based off of a chicken’s religious background. I make room for chickens of all religions. As for the sandwich itself, the spicy deluxe with pepper jack cheese is consistently a revelation to eat.
What’s more, unlike Michael’s Bistro, which appropriated Oaxacan queso onto its sandwich, I see nothing of the sort done with Chick-fil-A’s “spicy deluxe.” On the contrary, calling something more exciting than a glass of milk or Chief Justice John Roberts “spicy” is the most American act of all. The use of “spicy” here is American, through and through.
As a result, and for the first time ever on this column, I am awarding the Chick-fil-A sandwich a perfect 66/66 books of the Bible for taste, and a one-way ticket to heaven for having nothing problematic whatsoever. A simply incredible finish to an even more incredible column!
Taste: 66/66 books of the Bible
Problematicness: None—one-way ticket to heaven
Taste: 177/180 LSAT
Problematicness: 3.54 GPA
Taste: 173/180 Press Freedom Index
Problematicness: 147/180 (still very high!)
Taste: 10/12 eggs
Problematicness (Brioche tastiness): 47/50 freedom fries
Taste: Louis XII/Louis XVI
Problematicness: Louis XVI/Louis XVI
Taste: 3.5/5 stars (Southwest airlines food rating)
Problematicness: 3.5/5 stars (Id.)
Taste: 163 LSAT
Problematicness: Tune in next week!