It all started with dinner at my new favorite downtown restaurant, Lenehan’s. I was sitting down to enjoy a delicious meal with two of my favorite people, LL Cool Bean (here-to-after referred to as THE BEAN) and Michael Dick (here-to-after referred to in this article as THE DICK). We were discussing the merits of sharing entrees in an effort to finally make it through all of the items on the menu at Lenehan’s. For the record, I still haven’t managed to eat all of their food, though that is probably because I got stuck on the tenderloin with buffalo sauce, blue cheese, and bacon for a week or two. Regardless, one beautiful thing about Lenehan’s is the privilege you are afforded as a patron to swap out your fries or buffalo chips (which will also blow your mind especially with the house sauce) for fried pickles. It just so happened that my friends and I all, unbeknownst to each of us prior to the moment of my ordering them, had a passionate opinion about fried pickles.
The Dick said that while fried pickles are delicious they are no side (clearly a Nazi), but if you want the best fried pickles, they must be spears and they must come from Hunter’s Pub.
As though you had just pulled her hair and thrown sand in her eyes, The Bean loudly disagreed. “NEIGH, GOOD SIR. Tis our beloved Lafayette Brewing Company that offers the finest selection of fried pickle spears!”
Of course, knowing more than everyone as usual, I informed my dining comrades that they were in fact, both incorrect in their statements. “It is South Street Smokehouse, purveyors of fine BBQ and cornbread, who deliver the best fried pickle experience.”
It just so happens that The Bean, The Dick, and I all also happen to contribute to a fantastic website known as Think Lafayette. As most of us actually lack any real creativity, we are always looking for a new article to write…you see where I am going with this…well you are reading where I am going with this…or where we went with this. No, we didn’t decide to write an article about controlling the volume of your voice in a public space (though that might be coming soon from The Bean). A real, adult food fight had just erupted. Being adults, this food fight will not involve crying, spitting at the table, or needless dry-cleaning bills. We decided that, in the spirit of collaboration, we would all ride our bicycles to each of these previously mentioned locales and have a polite, educated discussion about the quality of each fried pickle. During our analysis we will Snapchat embarrassing photos of each other to our mutual friends, make lots of “that’s what she said” jokes, and eventually come to conclusions on our respective choices and in turn provide you with recommendations. Our debate will be settled at the end of the article via cryptic individually-chosen rating systems. Our hope is that your own debate can be flavored, if not settled, more easily.