Braidwood's Polk-A-Dot Drive-In

Every time I see my cat licking its asshole I think about my ex wife. But that’s how nostalgia works, right? We only remember the best of the available memories.

--Jarod Kintz, Seriously delirious, but not at all serious

Polk-A-Dot's larger-than-life pop icon greeters

Since 1956, the Polk-A-Dot Drive-In has been a staple on Route 66, serving classic diner fare to locals and travelers alike. Originally located in a rainbow polka-dotted school bus that served lunch from a mini-sized kitchen, the restaurant expanded to the current location, offering a classic fifties drive-in experience. Larger-than-life statues of Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, Betty Boop, and The Blues Brothers beckon Route 66 travelers to stop and enjoy a nostalgic blast from the past.

Inside, the dining room features retro decor: black-and-white linoleum floor with matching chrome-trimmed booths, tables, chairs, and swivel stools; Route 66-theme wallpaper; a coin-operated kiddie car; an awesome antique gas pump gumball machine; and numerous photos of pop icons from the fifties and sixties. The women's restroom is plastered with photos of Elvis, including the famous pic of The King in his skivvies for his Army induction physical, which is prominently placed opposite the commode for easy viewing. Nice touch. This place certainly has a lot of charm. No wonder the Polk-A-Dot earns high marks for atmosphere in Yelp! and TripAdvisor reviews.

We peruse the menu boards above the counter, which list a variety of sandwiches (burgers, hot dogs, hoagies, Italian beef, Polish sausage, etc.), sides (fries, hush puppies, onion rings, chili), salads (we usually avoid these at fast-food joints), dinners (fried fish, shrimp, or chicken with your choice of fries, coleslaw, or mashed potatoes and a roll), and ice-cream treats (Arctic Swirl, sundae, float, slushie, banana split). The online food reviews are mixed, so we play it relatively safe by ordering two chicken dinners with coleslaw and mashed potatoes. Can't go too wrong with fried chicken, right?

Antique gas pump gumball machine and kiddie car

When we step up to the counter, we have second thoughts about actually eating here. It's not just the snotty teenager who acts like we are imposing on her by placing our order. No, that's the least of it. The kitchen is full of teenagers who are too busy messing around to notice that the place is a complete disaster area. T and I look at each other, wondering if we should keep driving. Hunger pangs get the best of us, however, forcing us to accept the risk of food poisoning. Seriously.

As I nervously wait for our food at our cozy booth, I admire the tabletop jukebox. The turnstile features many of the greatest hits from the fifties and sixties, such as "California Dreamin'," by The Mamas & the Papas; "That'll Be the Day," by Buddy Holly; and "Do You Know the Way to San Jose," by Dionne Warwick. I would insert a quarter to play a tune, but the music in the background is already a bit too loud.

When our food arrives, it's just as bad as I had feared. The chicken is over-fried (yes, it's possible), which has rendered the scraps of  meat left on the bones tough and greasy. Both of us can tell that the fryer oil hasn't been changed in quite a while, so we pick off as much of the breading as possible. The coleslaw is bland, wilted, and a bit too warm, so let's just put that Styrofoam salmonella incubator off to the side with the pile of nasty breading. The pasty mashed potatoes taste like they came straight from a box, and the gravy has way too much salt. No doubt about it: This chicken dinner officially qualifies as one of the worst meals ever. We should have ordered burger baskets.

On a positive note, I'm glad we didn't order the chili-cheese fries, which look like they should be served with a side of antacid--or an anti-diarrheal.

However, we can't leave without giving the ice cream a try. After all, this is a drive-in. Both of us order a Choco Cherry Arctic Swirl. It is delicious--and much better than the comparable Choco Cherry Love Blizzard served at Dairy Queen. The vanilla ice cream is creamy, chock full of large, whole cherries, and mixed with just the right amount of chocolate. Yum! Turns out that redemption can be served in a Styrofoam cup, too.