We’ve been trying to simplify things in our house lately. Not just Spring cleaning, but an ongoing, year-round attempt to have fewer things cluttering up the place and taking up space in our lives.
To that end, we’ve tried to forego physical gifts for shared experiences. For our anniversary, a white water rafting trip on one of our favorite rivers. Concert tickets in a birthday card. And recently, courtesy of my wife Amanda, seats at a series of shows at the Steven Tanger Center for the Performing Arts. Not just the touring Broadway stuff, which we’ve done from time to time—first experiences, things we’ve never done before.
Last month, that meant the first symphony performance either of us had ever seen—Verdi’s Requiem performed by the Greensboro Symphony Orchestra, featuring the Winston-Salem Symphony Chorus and guest soloists. Don’t ask me how we’d managed to maintain this musical blind spot this long—the narrow cultural aperture of our punk rock youths, maybe. Or the class anxiety that comes from growing up in places where these sorts of things aren’t on offer. The important thing is, we finally did it—and it was incredible, opening up a whole new world for us.
But before we did that, almost unconsciously, we grounded ourselves with a little dinner more in our cultural wheelhouse. Just across from Tanger, at downtown’s LeBauer Park, we grabbed some chairs at an outside table and enjoyed some Parkside Pull-Up. A little walk-up spot on the edge of the park, it offers my favorite type of cuisine from any nation or cultural tradition—food that is better than it needs to be.
Parkside offers smash burgers, hot dogs, French fries, ice cream, and shakes. A few assorted sandwiches, too—a Philly cheesesteak, a crab roll, grilled cheese for the kids (or the kid in you). Nothing fancy. But that’s the point.
When chef Kris Fuller (the mind behind downtown’s Crafted: The Art of the Taco and the late, lamented Crafted: The Art of Street Food) opened Parkside back in 2022, she was thinking about the beautiful simplicity of places like Zack’s Hot Dogs in Burlington, where she’d go as a kid with her grandparents. Zack’s is still going strong, has been since 1928. There’s a reason these places stick around so long—and warm memories of them stay with us. Simplicity isn’t always easy. These places are always better than they have to be.
For me, Parkside conjures El’s Drive-In in Morehead City, where I was born. They’ve been doing essentially the same thing—burgers, hot dogs, french fries, shakes—with a coastal seafood twist for generations. My mother went there as a little girl.
In Connecticut, where my wife grew up, that place was Frankie’s, whose classic slogan (“Come in and eat…or we’ll both starve!”) still appears on every fountain soda cup. We were there just last year, and it was just as simple and satisfying as ever.
Don’t get me wrong—Parkside’s a Kris Fuller joint. They’re having a little elevated culinary fun with the simple fare. There’s a Bagel Dog on the menu with an everything-seasoned bun, house hot sauce, jalapenos, and cream cheese. But even if you keep it simple, you’ll go away satisfied.
That little extra quality and attention to detail, that little extra bit of love—that’s what makes places like Zack’s, El’s, Frankie’s, and Parkside great.
They’re there for you whether you’re hitting the Tanger Center dressed to the nines or in jeans and a t-shirt, taking five at the park with the kids. Simplicity wins.