Yummy’s

I had a large bowl of the WonTon soup and it was DELICIOUS to the last drop!!!

I worked for free food on the truck for 1 year when I was in Jr high, and I loved the food.
I always got the burrito chili & cheese, and the chocolate oatmeal cookie. I crave yummy’s all the time. When I Visit I.F. go to the Yummy’s restaurant, but I think the restaurant is closed down now. I am going get my Yummy’s next month so, I’m going to Sneak onto Gale’s property for some burrito lovin action.

My sister (the first reviewer) has been made an Elite despite her inaccurate review of this restaurant. I love her to pieces, but clearly when it comes to consuming and rating processed foods of common middle America (because not EVERYONE is blessed with a bounty of local food/​produce culture as the two of us are in Northern California) she is clearly delusional and I’ve been called in to set the record straight. Since she was only two years behind me in school, and we went to a grade seven through nine junior high, I can recall in exact detail where she’s embellishing the story. Let me elaborate:
First of all, the following was Yummy’s menu: Shasta Sodas (RC cola, strawberry & kiwi, blackberries & cream, raspberries & cream, orange, rootbeer); three kinds of cookies: square cuts (approximately 8×8 and quarter an inch thick of soft-​set Snickerdoodle, chocolate chip or Chocolate Oatmeal (probably made with a brownie mix), Taco salad (see description below), nachos, the best «kosher beef» hotdogs, said hotdog with chilli and cheese, and a bowl of chili (for those who recently underwent the removal of a tonsil or perhaps wisdom teeth). This menu suited Yummy’s well because they needed an assemply line equipped with no more than a tub of hot dogs (and they were delicious), a tub of chili, a tub of cheese sauce, a tub of crushed corn chips, and a squeeze bottle of ranch. They had styrofoam bowls already loaded with chips for nachos and lettuce for the salad.
Secondly, everything is fucking amazing. Who gives a shit where it came from when it tastes that good? Everyone knows a place like this is serving empty calories. Hell, it’s parked outside of Junkfood Heaven, a ghetto-​ass ice cream truck that’s blinged itself out with 50 cent Sprees and endless little baggies of sixlets and smarties being sold for 7 cents a roll. In addition, the prices were all under $ 2.50. In today’s currency and portion demand for the average American teen living in Idaho, I can’t imagine or speak for Yummy’s in how its changed.
Anyway, here’s some useless information from 1999. Yummy’s trucks did not sell scones on a regular basis. And the scones did not exist until I matriculated to high school, so I can’t speak for her on this matter, but a fried pastry dough from a place like Yummy’s, hot or cold, and covered in cinammon sugar, could not have tasted anything less than phenomenal.
The owner of the Yummy’s truck, Ron, had a daughter named Angie. Angie and I were classmates from seventh grade until we graduated from high school, and she married Matt, a friend of mine all the way back from grade school. Angie had to work on the truck almost everyday at lunch hour, mostly accepting payment and handing out cans of SHASTA SODA, my favorite flavors being blackberries & cream and Strawberries & kiwi. Ron sold these sodas for 45 cents per can (at the time time soda had recently become $ 1 per bottle in vending machines)
Ron, as she has said, is a nice guy. In fact, he was so nice that he was feeding us deadly crap but we thought it was the best thing we were putting into our bodies. I had some mormon friends with parents that emphasized on the importance of eating one’s carrots at the lunch table, but they’d line up around the truck and save up weeks worth of allowance money just to binge on $ 2.50 «taco salad» for a week straight, a product made in an assembly line of a handful of iceberg lettuce salad, a scoup of chili out of a can probably manufactured by Sysco, and a scoop of «cheddar cheese sauce» probably also manufactured in a can by Sysco and topped with crushed tortilla chips and then squirted liberally with ranch dressing. I wasn’t a fan of beans or cumin at this time. Or ranch dressing for that matter, and my lunch allowance was only $ 3 per day with a big appetite, and I myself couldn’t resist this item.
That said… Yummy’s provided me with a delicious dining experience nearly everyday and helped me become addicted to some of the things that I am addicted to now (like canned cheese sauce and ranch dressing, or the concept of a taco salad). I can’t say that it contributed to my fatness as I was pretty much rail thin through all of junior high. Thus this culinary institution shall receive 4 stars for always being the dependable go-​to place in old-​town IF for some really bad, truly American food.

This is another post about why I was so fat in Idaho.
In addition to scary cafeteria food, my junior high school served the obligatory Pizza Hut and Domino’s individual pies, but also within school premises two independent vendors were permitted to conduct business to chubby students with cash in hand.
Their names? Yummy’s and Junk Food Heaven.
…Let’s just talk about Yummy’s.
Over three years, like many of my fellow students, I developed a personal relationship with Ron, the friendly old man running the truck and also the proprietor of the restaurant. I’ve actually never been inside the restaurant itself but had countless Yummy’s lunches in my three-​year stint at Gale that I could probably recite the whole limited menu:
Taco salad, baked potato, nachos– came with some or all of the following condiments: ranch, «salsa,» chili and cheese. Scones– not the tea kind but the fried pieces of dough; they’re called tiger ears in some areas and are sprinkled with cinnamon sugar. Three types of cookies– chocolate chip, oatmeal (I think?) and snickerdoodle.
Oh my god, the shame is setting in. I can’t believe I ate all of that.
I thoroughly enjoyed everything (well, maybe not the cookies) there– the scones and taco salad were especially favored, and prices were rock-​bottom (when I first started going a huge scone was a dollar; I think Ron eventually raised it to a buck-​fifty). And I have a special place in my heart for Ron– I hope he is healthy and still thriving– but retrospectively I’m horrified by what I put into my body nearly every day for nine-​month stretches for three years. Ron was like the sweet grandpa who knew everybody’s names and would greet each of us with a smile, but he was serving up some deadly shit. The three stars, therefore, come from nostalgia, not from the actual product itself. Go to the restaurant if you want to, but if you’re sending your kids to Clair E. Gale, send them off with a packed lunch.