The Chicken Sisters
K.J. Dell'Antonia
To my grandparents, who took me to Chicken Annie’s.
To my parents, who once boldly took me to Chicken Mary’s.
And to Rob, Sam, Lily, Rory, and Wyatt, all of whom understand the importance of good fried chicken—and enjoying it together.
The hit TFC series Food Wars is back! And this time, it’s personal. We’re looking for rival restaurants with a deeper connection—married chefs, best friends with dueling taco trucks. If you’re a restaurant owner or worker who shares a bond with the crew at a competing restaurant in your town, we want to hear from you.
It’s a fantastic opportunity to showcase your food on TV, expose your brand to a national audience, and finally resolve, once and for all, who’s the best at serving up your local specialty. Food Wars judges will vote on who provides the best dining experience, the best menu, and, of course, the most delicious, most authentic version of whatever it is you do, and it will all be shared live via social media and then on produced episodes of our show. The winner will be awarded $100,000 to invest in their business. Past victors have franchised and been offered lucrative product-branding opportunities.
To be considered for the show, both restaurants must be willing and enthusiastic about participating and must be available for up to five possibly nonconsecutive days of filming. Applicants should e-mail no more than 300 words describing the rivalry and relationship between your competing restaurants, along with some images that capture the scene. We need to locate our next competitors RIGHT AWAY, so drop us a line ASAP! [email protected]
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To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: The Chicken Sisters (application for Food Wars) In 1883, my great-great-great-grandmother Margaret (Mimi) and her sister, Frances (Frannie), answered an ad placed by Fred Harvey for “young women, 18–30 years of age, of good character, attractive and intelligent” to come west for a grand adventure—working in his “Harvey restaurants” along the railroad line. They lived in a dorm and wore a uniform. Harvey took good care of his girls, or at least, he kept them on a short leash, and my grandma Mimi resented it. She met a man who worked on the railroad, packed up Frannie, and followed him to Merinac, Kansas. They had a house right by the depot, so Mimi opened her own railroad restaurant, selling fried chicken, potatoes, and biscuits with Frannie. Before long they were making more money with chicken than Harvey was, and he didn’t like it, but then he was crushed between two train cars and it didn’t matter anymore. Meanwhile, Frannie and Mimi had a big fight; then Frannie got married and started her own place out by the mines. Thus, Chicken Mimi’s and Chicken Frannie’s were born, and so was their rivalry.
Mimi’s daughter was also Mimi, and she ran Mimi’s, followed by my great-grandmother, my grandmother, and now my mother. Frances preferred boys; she passed Frannie’s down to her son Frank and then his son Frank and then his son Frank, and I married his son Frank. That would be Frank the 4th. And I know what you’re thinking, but we share .0391 percent of our DNA or something and it’s not gross, so quit it.
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To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: The Chicken Sisters (application for Food Wars) Chicken Mimi’s fried chicken is pan-fried and people love it. Chicken Frannie’s fried chicken is deep-fat-fried and people love it too. I am probably the only person in the world who knows how both are made, but I never make either. I hate chicken. I mean, I like chickens, but I don’t like to eat them. I’ve been a vegetarian since I was 6. I grew up working the counter for my mother, who ran Mimi’s, which was started by my great-great-great-grandmother. Now I hostess for my mother-in-law at Frannie’s, which was started by my husband’s great-great-grandmother. My dead husband. There should be a word for that, like ex-husband, that would be easier.
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To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: The Chicken Sisters (application for Food Wars) My name is Amanda Pogociello. I am a hostess at Chicken Frannie’s, just outside Merinac, Kansas. Our rival, Chicken Mimi’s, is right on Main Street. The restaurants were started by two sisters who hated each other in the late 1800s, one mostly for people on trains passing through and the other mostly for the men who worked in the coal mines. For over a hundred years families around here have been choosing one or the other. Loyalty gets passed down in families, even. Only newcomers eat at both, although not very many people actually sit down and eat at Mimi’s anymore. They just get their chicken and go home.
The sisters’ feud lasted until their deaths, and it’s still going. Nobody from Frannie’s is allowed into Mimi’s, and vice versa. Chicken Mimi’s thinks Chicken Frannie’s is pretentious and stuffy, because we have a fancy bar and a large menu of more than just fried chicken, and in the ’80s we served quiche. Mimi’s serves chicken, biscuits, fried potatoes, iceberg lettuce salad, and pie. That’s it. It’s not even a real restaurant. It’s a chicken shack with tables. At Frannie’s we think that’s ridiculous. We think Mimi’s needs to grow up and take things seriously, and definitely clean itself up. Mimi’s thinks Frannie’s could just let people seat themselves and relax.