Dear Chili’s,
I first tried your food in sixth grade on an uncle-niece date. My parents were out of town, and I was staying with my grandparents. My uncle happened to be watching me for the day. We parked in a Northern Californian strip mall near my grandparents’ house, sat at a small circular table, and chowed down on steak fajitas on a Saturday afternoon.
I vividly remember the waitress placing a sizzling plate full of sliced steak, seasoned rice, onions, and bell peppers at the center of the table, and being mesmerized by the wafting scents and steam. For my 12-year-old self, it was a meal made of dreams. It was the perfect bonding moment for my uncle and I: sports on the TV, good company, delicious food. Though I have not ordered Chili’s fajitas since — for some reason, that lunch has stuck with me.
The next time I visited you was after I started college at Northwestern. I’d just rushed into a sorority at the beginning of winter quarter and was starting to make friends with some of my newfound sisters. One girl invited my dorm friend and I to dine at your Evanston establishment.
The three of us gossiped and grew closer over shared Presidente Margaritas, chocolate lava cake, and a cookie skillet. I was pleasantly surprised by the balanced sweetness of your drinks and the gooey goodness of your desserts. In a lively atmosphere amongst family dinners and sports fanatics, I truly felt at home. How could I not, with great food and even better company?
Since that night, I’ve returned to you many times — whether it be to escape the stress of midterms or simply catch up with friends I hadn’t seen for a while. Even if I walk in with a party of twelve, you always make room. And no matter what I eat or drink from you, I always leave satisfied.
I’ve come to adore your $6 Marg of the Month, your sneakily expensive Triple Dipper, and your chips with a trio of dips (your white queso is my favorite). But more than that, I appreciate the joy you bring by bringing people together for a good time.
When I found out that you were shutting down your Evanston location due to construction, I — along with many others — was quite disappointed. Where else near campus offers (relatively) affordable food and drinks one needs for a social gathering? Evanston has little-to-no nightlife, and one of the only sources of it is closing shop.
So, Chili’s, I beg you: find another storefront once the construction begins. The atmosphere and joy you bring to the Northwestern community is too critical for us students to lose — some Kellogg students even began a petition to make you stay. Truthfully, you are loved and practically needed here.
I know it might be a few months before you leave us, but please consider continuing to serve Northwestern. In the meantime, I will be visiting you as much as possible.
Your neon red and green sign will forever be ingrained in my college experience.
Thank you, Chili’s.
Love, Maya