A Stupid Ass Decimal Point Ranking of Chili Cheese Fries in Los Angeles
No, I am not a fan of The Infatuation.
Heyo!
Welcome to The Move! I’ve been eating uhhhhh-lot of tomato sandwiches this week. Fresh garden tomatoes, a lot of salt, a lot of pepper, and Greek olive oil from Stamoolis Brothers. On top of olive-oil grilled bread with a thick layer of Hellmann’s mayo.
I don’t have a mayonnaise allegiance to speak of; I prefer to just go with the flow. I did grow up on Hellmann’s (and actually after some research I do not think it’s the same as Best Foods). Though, if I had a choice, I’d probably use Duke’s because it’s super lemony. Also, a good third option: Blue Plate. Very tasty.
I also foraged a bunch of chanterelle mushrooms this week and threw em’ inside of a quiche. I’ve never made a quiche before. Now, I can say I have. Damn, life comes at you fast.
I also used some chicken of the woods to make a chicken (of the woods) piccata. Absolutely crushed it this week in the kitchen. Hell yeah.
Alright! Now, let’s discuss whether or not I’m a hater. But first, subscribe to The Move. This is all free, but I will also gladly accept your money.
Now you might remember I wrote a big ol’ story about chili cheese fries with my friend Lo Hoang. I’d like to talk about some of those fries, but, before we get into that, I want to discusss something near and dear to my heart…
The Infatuation Sucks
Do I think The Infatuation has helped a lot of restaurants? Sure. Do I also think the world would be better off if The Infatuation were shot directly into the fucking sun? Absolutely. Believe it or not, those two feelings can coexist. I want restaurants to receive press. I want to see good people succeed, to see communities and careers thrive. What I don’t want is for people to solely consume their restaurant coverage through uninspired, surface-level mediums rife with hurried, arbitrary, fart-sniffing decimal point scores.
The platform runs by rabidly consuming a restaurant, conjuring up a cursory opinion that looks like it was Googled, assigning a score, and then moving on to the next place. All for the sake of pumping out guide after guide. “Where to go when you’re friends with Christian Slater” and “10 Tacos You Have to Try You Absolute Dipshit.”
While it’s true that Eater also produces lists (everybody does, they’re useful), they also do some damn good reporting. They at least ask some fucking questions once in a while. Does the Infatuation ask questions? No, but they do have a striking number of Lady Gaga references.
Here’s an excerpt from The Infatuation’s burger roundup…
Much like watching Lady Gaga act, you get the sense that Moo’s is just flexing at this point with their burger.
And the opening sentence from their review of Nossa Caipirinha, in Los Feliz
Much like Lady Gaga’s career over the last few years, Nossa in Los Feliz has evolved into a new era.
And then this from a Filipinotown roundup…
…much like an ’80s remix of Lady Gaga’s “Perfect Illusion,” everything here mixes the old with the new.
There’s something overtly grating about The Infatuation’s style to me. It’s hard to explain, but it’s that feeling of somebody who wants you to think they’re cool. Somebody who tries to be your friend, probably for some sort of personal gain. In that way, The Infatuation L.A. makes all the sense in the world.
And this isn’t to say that everything needs to be old school, gate keeping restaurant criticism. Fuck no. I love plenty of Tik Tok-style restaurant reviews. I absolutely fuck with The VIP List reviewing a Daniel Boulud restaurant. I get most of my restaurant tips from the wonderful Instagram account dine.and.drink, and unfortunately some people who point a camera directly into their mouth full of food provide a valuable service. But not everybody is qualified to hand out restaurant scores. There’s a reason people of repute don’t do it.
I just can’t imagine walking out of a restaurant and having the blind audacity to say, “Hmmm….that feels like a 7.3.” It sure doesn’t seem like anybody I know in L.A. has any reverence for Dave Portnoy’s pizza reviews, so why are we also consuming restaurant coverage in the same manner?
Oof, this is a real shit-talky edition of The Move, but that’s how it goes.
Personally, I wouldn’t ever take a job doing handing out definitive restaurant scores accompanied with 400 words of copy. Believe that or not, I don’t care, but I would sooner ask my nephew to kick me in the balls (an opportunity he would jump at) or endorse Barilla pasta (my version of selling out). Maybe you think I’m a self-righteous asshole for saying that, but here’s a counterargument:
We should be holding each other accountable for rushed content. For creating bad art. For becoming brand goons.
I’m guilty of these things, too. Sporked didn’t do it for me, so I left. I used to accept comped restaurant visits all the time when I was dirt poor and getting started as a writer (not in exchange for good press, but still I accepted these gifts and it’s not ethical).
I am decidedly not a journalist, but I do advocate for them. Read Bill Addison. Are your reading Tejal Rao? L.A. Taco and Javier Cabral? Jesus Christ, you need to, especially if The Infatuation is your main source. Check out Lucas Kwan Peterson’s recent report on gentrification in Glassell Park (which is creative and thoughtful?? crazy). Read and follow Stephanie Breijo (as much as I love her writing for the L.A. Times, her Instagram captions are just as good. I think about this wedding soup eulogy a lot). Support these people and their hard work.
Every food writer I talk to is worried they’re not going to have a job next year. So, support the talented people who pour their heart and soul into restaurant criticism and food journalism. The people spending weeks researching stories, the people connecting culture and humanity and history and tradition into their writing.
Or, I don’t know, we can just assign everything a blurb and a numerical value. Holy shit.
Anyway, with all that in mind, here’s a decimal point ranking of chili cheese fires in Los Angeles!!!
Danny’s Big Time Decimal Point Ranking For Chili Cheese Fries!!!
Carney’s in West Hollywood
Much like Lady Gaga, Carney’s knows that restraint is key. The chili is well-spiced and greasy, so much so that you’ll notice it stains the bottom styrofoam bowl light orange. The fries are crispy, thin-cut, and McDonald’s-esque. Strangely, they use a single slice of cheddar as their cheese, but it works. The hot-as-hell chili melts it immediately, and you get a nice little cheese pull. Notice how the chili isn’t covering every inch of fry, either. That means they stay crispy.
I finished this whole thing happily. It costs $6.12 with tax, and I didn’t feel like I wanted to die afterwards. A good balance of each individual ingredient.
Danny’s Official Score:
8.2, or maybe it’s a 8.8 or a 7.6 or a 9. I don’t know, fuck you.
Tommy’s in Hollywood
Much like when Lady Gaga takes a shit, these chili cheese fries look like shit.
I don’t have any reverence for Tommy’s. I don’t much care if people grew up on it or if it holds a special place in your heart. That’s necessary, if you ask me. Sometimes, a transplant should be reviewing food here.
Tommy’s chili cheese fries are bad, yes, but there’s not a world in which I wouldn’t happily devour this entire thing. The fries are bland and soggy and the cheese sauce doesn’t really taste like cheese, but the chili is on point. Big hunks of meat and tons of salt and spice. They’re not good chili cheese fries by any stretch, but if you bludgeoned me over the head with alcohol I wouldn’t much care. Chili cheese fries at Tommy’s costs $6.79.
Danny’s Official Score:
4.5. Wait! No, I think a 5.2. Unless somebody from Tommy’s is willing to comp my next meal, in which case these are an 8.9.
Tops Burgers in Pasadena
This place rocks. Spacious booths within an old-school diner that has a fast-casual aesthetic. Plus, the staff was lovely and completely on top of their shit. Quick, friendly, and organized. Whoever is in charge of Tops Burgers in Pasadena, yo, you’re doing a fantastic job. Your employees would run through a wall for you.
The chili comes covered in cold, Robo-Couped cheddar and pepper jack cheese, which I thought was going to be a big problem. However, it melts instantly because the chili is so damm hot. The cheese pull here is incredible. Check it out:
Somehow the hand-cut fries didn’t get soggy at all here, either. The chili is great (no beans, GTFO out beans, not in chili cheese fries). Still, I prefer the heavy spice and grease of Carney’s. Tops will easily feed three people though. That’s awesome for $7.87.
Danny’s Official Score:
8.2. Wait, is that what I gave Carney’s? I can’t remember. I think I slightly prefer Carney’s. Ok this is an 8.1 or whatever I don’t know fuck you.
Thank you for reading The Move! I’m having a lot of fun doing this, and I hope you’re following along as I write food recommendations across this whole damn country. I technically don’t have a home at the moment, but you can expect continuing coverage in Pittsburgh, Los Angeles, Detroit, Philadelphia, Chicago, New York, and more!
I like to think of the world as my own personal hoagie to be devoured messily. Lettuce on my pants, that sort of thing.
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You totally didn’t ask, but my friend who made pies at Quarter Sheets said the trick to pie crusts is using cold butter and water in the dough. Also, par baking the crust.