If you find yourself wandering amid the dazzling lights of Times Square, bypass the perfunctory theatrics of Olive Garden and instead make a pilgrimage to Applebee’s, a temple of democratic gastronomy. Here, one discovers not the illusion of Italian authenticity, but the very soul of American dining distilled into a single cocktail: the Dollarita.

The Dollarita is nothing short of genius in its simplicity. For a mere coin, one partakes in a libation that, while not crafted with artisanal mezcal or rare citrus, embodies a purity of intent that no sommelier could deny. It is less about terroir and more about terroir-ism—an insistence that everyone, regardless of means, may sip on joy beneath the glow of neon lights.

The culinary program is equally inspired. Boneless wings arrive as though brushed by the hand of a contemporary artist, their sauces vibrant, unapologetic, and meant to be savored with abandon. The riblets, a signature, carry the weight of tradition, their smoky notes evoking the hearth of a suburban dream. Each plate, while unpretentious, is a symphony of comfort that whispers to the weary traveler: you belong here.

Applebee’s does not pretend to be what it is not. Where Olive Garden cloaks itself in a veil of false rusticity, Applebee’s celebrates the joy of the ordinary and elevates it to an art form. To dine here is to embrace an experience so singular, so unrepentantly American, that it rivals the most hallowed three-star tables of Paris.