Chuy Arzola's

Ratings Guide:
Half handshake, half chest-bump hug – 5 stars
Chest bump – 4 stars
Fist bump – 3 stars
High five – 2 stars
Handshake – 1 star
Fone and fone – 0 stars
Manly ass slap – ½ star



Restaurant: Chuy Arzola’s
Location: 6405 Clayton Ave., St. Louis, MO



There’s Tony Soprano fat. There’s The Disney Wonder fat. There’s Oliver Miller fat. Then there’s my buddy Dru, who took fat to a whole new level this weekend.

I was down in St. Louis visiting some friends, and on Friday night decided to have dinner at Chuy’s. Located in Dogtown, it’s a popular spot to hang out with friends, have some drinks, and eat a crapload of tex mex food. Not that you care, but legend has it that Dogtown got it’s name back in the day when St. Louis hosted the 1904 World’s Fair. Allegedly, many of the foreigners from around the world who were actually exhibits in the fair lived in tents in the Dogtown area. Now, during their stay, all the dogs in the area mysteriously disappeared. Rumor is all the dogs got eaten because they were the only food these people could find. I’m not sure how true this is, but I thought you should know. Why? I have no idea.

So, as we’re sitting there eating, everything we order comes with sides of stuff you expect at a Mexican restaurant, like lettuce, sour cream, guacamole, salsa, and shredded cheese. Dru actually had a small little bowl of shredded cheese that was supposed to be used on his taco platter. But, rather than spread the cheese between his grease-softened taco shell, he instead took his fork and started shoveling the shredded cheese directly into his mouth. He was eating shredded cheddar cheese as if it were a salad. This made my mouth drop, and I’m the same guy who once puked into a trash cane during a White Castle speed eating contest, then continued to devour more cheeseburgers. I’ve never seen anyone eat shredded cheese like that. And I hope I never do again. At least not until the next time I eat with Dru.

I’m not sure what more you need to know about Chuy’s. If the cheese is good enough to eat by the forkful, you can only imagine how good everything else was.

We started out with the Chile con Queso. In case you don’t speak Spanish, Chile con Queso roughly translates to “Melted Velveeta Cheese with a couple of diced tomatoes and jalapeños”. And if you think Chile con Queso that you can make in your own microwave is worth a five-hour drive down to St. Louis, you’re right. I ate about 700 chips dipped with this stuff. In the battle of the bulge, melted cheese is always going to win. Whether it’s cheese fries at a hotdog place, nachos at a Bulls game, or the Chile con Queso at Chuy’s, I’m going to eat you. And I’m not going to stop until I’m licking my finger and the cheese container clean to the disgust of everyone with a clear sightline of my table.

For dinner I usually go with the fajitas for one. The thing I love about Chuy’s (other than the reasonable prices, the strong margaritas, my incredible streak of good luck playing the credit card game there, the fact that there’s a 100% chance you’ll run into someone you know, and the outdoor patio) is the huge portion sizes. The fajitas-for-one is enough to feed two. And I don’t mean two people, I mean two countries (assuming Dru is not a citizen of either said country). And everything there is like that. They just pile stuff on. And for the prices (my giant fajita plate was $10) it just might be the best deal in town. And on top of that, the food is actually pretty good. You can tell the quality is top notch, and you probably have only like a 10% of catching Hepatitis B here.

I’ve been to Chuy’s dozens of times, and I’ve never had a bad thing to say about the place. If you’re ever in St. Louis and you’re looking for a dodgy little joint where you can hang out with friends, throw a few back, and eat shredded cheese by the bowlful, then I urge you to stop by and dig in.

It meets all of my criteria – huge portions, cheap prices – for a chest bump rating.