With a name like Harold's

University of Chicago students learn early that the perfect capper to a night of carousing -- or a night of reading Kant -- is a heaping helping of chicken from the Hyde Park outlet of Harold's Chicken Shack, the South Side institution. The bird is fried, plopped on pieces of white bread, drowned in sauce, wrapped in foil and shoved at you through a small hole in the plexiglass window behind which the cooks labor. Ambrosia! Or -- as some U of C undergrads have it -- gross!

So how delightful to read these paeans to Harold's in the Chicago Reader. (Note: That link is to a PDF file.) Takes me back. The author visited 35 Harold's outlets!

What are the junk food purveyors of choice from your school days?