Welcome back you dirty fucking readers. Today is a special little treat for you, so fasten your greasebelts cuz we’re going to Fresno baby:
Having arrived at this destination after 4 hours in the car, my appetite was something fierce. To say that I was suffering for a feeding would be an understatement:
It’s supposed to say ‘Sufferings’ but apparently there are youtube users that are not that literate.
The only thing I knew about Rudy Jr. prior to my visit was that he was a Homo Sapien with chicken-like features and he happened to make what Fresno residents claim to be some top notch meats. Just look at this Google Map review of Rudy Jr.’s (p.s. Google Map reviews are like Yelp reviews, except for some reason they seem to garner more of a dumpster crowd, making them much more a valuable resource):
If this review doesn’t garner ‘mandatory visit’ status then your soul is an empty void.
Inside we go:
*Not depicted: family of four with chicken grease dripping on to assorted race car branded shirts.
Walking inside the restaurant is like stepping into King Tut’s tomb, a veritable treasure trove from the past. That is, if King Tut liked the Raiders, Nascar, and Budweiser. Nearly every square inch of the place is decorated with logos of aforementioned Sewer Dweller People brands. It really is a celebration of depravity, and I’ll be God Damned if it didn’t rule. Every tattered Raiders poster on the wall is like a Certificate of Authenticity from the proprietor Rudy himself that this is most definitely not a small meal small plate establishment for people with little bodies. Thanks for having my back Rudy. Let’s take a look at your menu:
In case you are wondering what a clip art version of a chicken man looks like:
My hunger was telling me that I needed an appetizer, and the inferno wings sounded pretty rad, but unfortunately, according to the waitress, they were all out of inferno sauce. Instead I just ordered my dinner, the Chicken Dinner. ‘Rudy’s Secret Recipe’ for the chicken sounded intriguing. I don’t know what it is about the secrecy but damn that shit makes my mouth water. My assistant ordered the ‘Tri Tip Dip’. Promising ‘lots of beef’ it sounded like a solid choice. While you wait for your food they bring you garlic bread and your choice of either coleslaw or macaroni salad:
The garlic bread was nice and crispy, yet buttered to oblivion, making it a natural choice for a little grease boner. Anything with mayonnaise on it is also solid in my book, and the fat heap of macaroni was no exception. The only thing that was weird was that it took a solid hour and fifteen minutes from the time we ordered for our fucking food to come out. Now don’t get me wrong, when it comes to the virtues, patience is pretty high on my list, but pretty sure that’s the longest I’ve waited for food ever. It took so long the waitress even brought us another helping of mayonnaise items and garlic bread, not in recompense for the wait, but because so much time had passed since they cleared the first round off the table she just assumed we hadn’t gotten any yet. I happily engorged myself on the seconds anyways:
After becoming sleepy and almost nodding off, which I imagine is what happens to the body when it starts to shut down and go into survival mode when it doesn’t have food, my food arrived:
The ‘fat fries’ are indeed relatively wide for a french fry, however, there is only a fist-sized smattering of these fuckers, which is kind of a bummer. Luckily, true to the words on the menu, my chicken was cooked to perfection, and scrumptious as hell. The beans were also very delicious. Lots of flavor and balance of sweet and savory. Let’s give my man Rudy here a Meat Zoom:
The secrecy that is added to the recipe prevents a proper Meat Zoom.
Despite the wait, I was pretty stoked on my Chicken Dinner. The half a chicken carcass that you receive to feed upon is enough to fill you up, despite the lack of fries portion. Although after eating basically a loaf of garlic bread maybe that was a good thing. My assistant did not get as luckily with his/her ‘Tri Tip Dip’:
They really go bare minimum on this fucker. It’s just a roll, a wad of beef, and a little dipping cup full of what literally tastes like liquid beef. It’s like gravy concentrate or something. It’s actually rather unsettling in how meaty it is. It’s like you can taste the animal itself, instead of just its muscle tissues. It makes you not want to eat meat again. My assistant could not hang with the beef assault, so I stepped in as a human shield:
Gnarly fucking beef dip
God damn it eating this thing tasted like sucking a butcher’s dick, but mama didn’t raise her child to leave food on the plate, so I drowned it in torment:
Alas, the slop was too strong, and I had to throw in my bitch towel. So yeah, take away is thus: when eating a place called ‘Chicken Man’ get the chicken.