This Airport Chilis Too is What’s Up!

By Alvin Simonson

HOUSTON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT- When I woke up this morning, I was staring down the barrel of a long day of traveling: I started in Charlotte, headed for St. Louis, but for some reason the geniuses at United Airlines decided to route me through Houston. Even though the diversion more than doubles the total distance of the trip, they decided to leave me in Texas for almost three hours with absolutely nothing to entertain me. One interesting thing I learned is that- contrary to common sense- the Houston International Airport decided to hide all of its restrooms so nobody can find them. I nearly shit myself while traipsing through two terminals in search of a commode. Suffice to say, the day did not start out the way that I hoped it would.

What I didn’t expect was that the direction of my day was rerouted faster than a 737 full of Muslims. I decided to kill a few minutes by grabbing a bite to eat at the airport’s Chilis Too, and it warmed my soul faster than a trip to a posh rehab facility for Lindsay Lohan. I know, I know- airport dining options are usually not the cream of the crop. But Chilis defies the stereotype, and I think their commercial gives away their secret: it’s really all in the pepperation. Instead of a menu full of hastily delivered, pre-fab cardboard, Chils Too really delivers the goods- and I don’t mean Chilis curbside to go.

Let me start with the décor. While most airport restaurants have plain, white walls and brightly colored tables bolted to the floor that look like they were all installed the same day in 1979, Chilis Too is warm and inviting, like a mother’s uterus. Rather than stools bolted to the ground, Chilis Too had real chairs that were able to slide around the floor. The tables weren’t “clean,” per se, but I ate a chip off of it and didn’t get sick, so there’s nothing to complain about on that front. The tile and the walls had a really hip Southwestern-y feel that reminded me of that time I visited my Grandma at her retirement community in Sun City West. I loved the retirement community other than the thick stench of used adult diapers and Brut aftershave, so the fact that this Chilis Too had no whiff of aftershave makes it pretty close to my ideal environment.

My mom always tells me that the best restaurants are the ones that are the busiest. I have adhered to her advice for years, and let me tell you that it has brought me to many a glorious McDonald's across our great land. With that run of success in mind, I was secretly glad that I had to stand at the “Please Wait to Be Seated” sign for 10 minutes before anyone came to seat me. I was a little confused since most of the tables were empty, but I didn’t see any waitresses the whole time, so they must have been busy in some other part of the restaurant that I wasn’t able to see from the entrance. Or where I sat. Or near the bathroom when I went to wash my hands. Come to think of it, it’s odd that the waitresses were so busy in a seemingly invisible section of the restaurant, but I’ll assume that they must have been occupied, because if you’ve got time to lean you’ve got time to clean, and the restaurant wasn’t very clean. Anyway, ignorance is bliss.

When I finally got to my table, I was immediately impressed with the restaurant’s musical selection. It’s easy for a restaurant to murder the atmosphere by trying to please everyone with the most vanilla option imaginable. Not this time- Chilis Too pleased its customers' eardrums with selections from Madonna’s best hits of the 1980s and some excellent GooGoo Dolls selections. When I eat a meal, I like for all of my senses to achieve satisfaction, so these kitchy cult hits were right up my alley. Kudos to the ad wizard who did such a phenomenal job of setting the scene for a similarly pleasing meal.

The waitress quickly came to my table to ask me what I wanted to drink, and I had a tough time answering her for two reasons. Not only was I still taking in all of the exciting surroundings, I was also smitten with her rumpled, haggard, slightly above-average appearance. One of her flair pieces was a picture of a kid who appeared to be her pre-teen son, but I have no problem with that. If I do get her number, it’s not like I’m going to be around long enough to have any responsibility with the kid, and the fact that she has the kid means she’s almost certainly available, loose, and semi-desperate. Needless to say, my mind continued to wander enough that she gave me some more time to start looking over my drink options.

[RIGHT- Don't tease me, woman!]

And look over the drink options I did! Who would have thought that an airport Chilis Too would have such a thrilling cocktail selection? I eventually settled on the Top Shelf Margarita because that’s how I roll- top shelf all the way, baby. I'm not talking about that weak ass rail shit; the Chilis Too Top Shelf Margarita is built on a strong foundation of the always delicious Jose Cuervo tequila. It’s one of my personal favorites. I only had one because I didn’t want to get drunk and belligerent before boarding my flight because my last trip to Hartford still haunts me. I’m trying to avoid any more black marks on my flying record.

On top of all of that, the menu, while somewhat abbreviated from the usual Chilis experience, was clearly put together by the expert chefs who were sent to Mexico to learn all of the recipes from the Chilis Pepperation afficianados. I opted for the Mesquite Chicken Salad. I had a hard time turning down the Chicken Crispers and the Southwest Bigmouth Burger, but travelling is hard on the gut, and even though it might be TMI, I don’t need any help from Chilis to be painfully constipated. That’s not a fate I want to impose on those in close quarters on the airplane. Still, the salad featured exquisite and fresh products from around the world- cilantro, black bean salsa, honey mustard dressing- a veritable cornucopia of the world’s finest dining.

As an experience, I rate Chilis Too as an 11 out of 10, because the 1-10 scale doesn’t do the big picture justice. My only regret is that I wasn’t there at night because I’m sure that the Chilis Too is bumpin for the afterhours crew, and I wish the waitress- who I maintain is a solid 6- could have finished her shift and joined me in the not mile high club. We could have solved the state secret of where the airport chose to stash their bathrooms. Who knows, maybe next time. I just know that I will be connecting to Houston wherever I am travelling next time, even if it’s Europe.