Life > February 27, 2003

By Ethan Dougherty

Old Gold and Black Reviewer

Every great city has its flagship restaurant, a quaint little place that only the local elite knows about, trading rave reviews in hushed tones at cocktail parties.

As a bustling metropolis on the vanguard of the new economy, Winston-Salem is no exception to this rule. It has its own well-kept secret - a small, cozy restaurant where you buy the food and they throw in the friendship for free.

Of course, I’m referring to Wendy’s.

A first-time visitor to the House that Dave Thomas built will immediately be drawn in by the sheer opulence of her surroundings.

The bright lights give off a warm glow that beckons the patron to come farther in and queue up for the meal of her life.

Even the foil in which the sandwiches come, wrapped like little parcels of deliciousness, shines silver or gold, giving Wendy’s a luster that many establishments that use only paper products lack.

Although there’s no sign in the window mandating that shirt or shoes be worn within the tasty confines, even the most oblivious diner will want to wear a collared shirt so he does not feel underdressed.

Another area in which Wendy’s excels is in the singular clarity of the prose on its menu boards. Such well-worn American classics as the “cheeseburger” are straightforward enough, but even house specialties like the Big Bacon Classic are aptly named.

Ordering the aforementioned sandwich, you would expect to get something big with bacon on it that has stood the test of time. This delicacy delivers in all three categories.

Compare this narrative crispness to the menus of other local eateries, and you will see that Wendy’s blessedly does not suffer from a plague of confusing names.

One simply will not find an ambiguous moniker like “Monte Cristo,” where you really don’t know what the hell you’re getting, just that it might have some French influence, slapped on any sandwich at Wendy’s.

Contrary to vicious rumors perpetuated by the tabloid circuit, late founder Dave Thomas did not arrange the death of rapper Notorious B.I.G. as part of a blood feud over the use of the name “Biggie,” so diners can imbibe monstrously large soda and fry servings without guilt.

While Wendy’s late hours of operation make it a favorite for myriad night owls like students, police officers and people suffering from insomnia due to symptoms of drug withdrawal, it can also shine as an impressive destination for a first date with a special lady or fellow.

Nothing smacks of self-confidence more than coolly telling your date that Wendy’s is where it’s at for dinner.

It subtly sends the message, “Hey, I’m such a big timer that no matter where we go for dinner, we’re going to be faced with the quandary of whether we want to get McDonald’s or Arby’s for breakfast.” Junior Fia Rotter agrees. “If a guy took me to Wendy’s on our first date, my response would be, ‘Yes! Cheeseburgers rule!’”

Clearly, this winning strategy could be applied as successfully to other situations, but I encountered serious difficulties getting a straight answer when I inquired if the Wendy’s on Reynolda Road could host my wedding reception.

In addition to all of these strong selling points, Wendy’s continues to impress the hungry and miserly with their extensive value menu of items that can be purchased for less than a dollar.

While some negativity-mongering critics might point out that the burgers are often flaccid, the fries usually over-salted and the Cheerwine frequently a hint flat, these concerns seem secondary when one basks in the red and yellow splendor of the marquee, transfixed by the strangely Pippi-Longstockingesque hair framing the two hypnotic eyes and intoxicating freckles of the establishment’s namesake.