Many years and many miles ago, I lived on Pokey Stix smothered in ranch sauce. I was young, foolish, and had a killer metabolism.
Now, I live in Chicago and nowhere near my beloved Pokeys. But sometimes, on a warm May night, I think back fondly on ordering Pokey Stix with my girlfriends at Bromley Hall or the sorority house.
The only bad thing about Pokeys was when they started using the weird ranch dip in pre-packaged containers. Other than that, the perfect food.