Bordered Bites: Chili’s behind bars
Imagine hearing about a place that had the most delectable mozzarella sticks, Texas cheese fries, and a $12 beer ‘rita - a place of inconceivable amounts of joy and whimsy. Now imagine you can’t go. Not because the tables are booked or because it’s too far, but because it’s behind airport security where you can’t go unless you’ve got a plane ticket. This is the reality of Edmonton’s last remaining Chili’s.
In order to indulge in the divine experience of being a patron of Chili’s, you need a boarding pass, you need a valid ID in order to get through security, and you need the financial stability to buy a plane ticket. These aren’t technicalities of airport security, they’re tools of discipline and exclusion (and maybe security if you insist). They have walled off Chili’s from the general public, making it a space of privilege, a space that belongs to the authorized. This is representative of what Michel Foucauilt would call biopolitics: where political power governs our bodies and behaviour through mechanisms like borders. In this case, the border isn’t just a line on a map - it’s a metal detector and a boarding gate. And what it grants access to isn’t just another country or city, but an experience that has been made artificially scarce. Once a suburban mainstay, Chili’s now only exists in the liminal space between the public and the airborne.
But this isn’t just about a restaurant. It's about control, access, and the quiet violence of being excluded from an experience that once felt ordinary. While you may laugh at the idea of mourning a chain restaurant, you must admit that there is something symbolic about a place that used to be everywhere, and easily accessible, now being somewhere only the privileged can go.
So the next time you pass through the Edmonton International Airport’s security, take a moment to appreciate the Chili’s on the other side. It’s not just a restaurant. It’s a checkpoint in the geography of exclusion - a casual dining mirage only visible to the mobile and privileged. And if you can, get yourself a beer ‘rita for me.
Written by GAPSS VP HGEO Lauren Slevinsky