This article originally appeared in the Sponsored Issue.

Dear  “lactose” “intolerant” Cheesecake Factory customer,

I, personally, am not afflicted with what we here at the Cheesecake Factory call “being a little bitch”. Every time I eat one of our delicious, creamy cheesecakes, I am reminded that dairy is a god-given gift squandered by people who’ve been tricked by into thinking they’re “medically” “intolerant” to “lactose”. And sure, maybe I immediately shit my pants after one bite of our Very Cherry Ghirardelli™ Chocolate Cheesecake. Maybe I spend four hours in the bathroom after every meal at the ‘Factory. But I don’t give a shit (figuratively speaking). And you know why? Because I’m not a little bitch.

How could a delicious feast of our four cheese pasta, Oreo milkshakes, and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup Fudge Ripple Cheesecake possibly cause a person pain? This is a rhetorical question. I know how it can physically cause someone pain. I have had this meal several times. I have fed it to my children several times. I have watched them cry. I have watched them grow more before my very eyes.  

“But a slice of The Cheesecake Factory’s Tiramisu Cheesecake contains twice the recommended daily intake of lactose,” is a fact I would know if I was a whiny little prick. No matter how much discomfort our food causes me, I will never surrender to those corporate pigs at Lactaid. If I wanted to drink something that tastes like watered-down sperm, I would mix watered-down sperm into a nice, cold glass of whole milk and guzzle that shit.

In short, I won’t be leaving this Cheesecake Factory until I’ve tried everything on the menu, and I hope you won’t either. It’s time we face our fears head on. We can’t hide in these stalls forever.


A cheesecake sommelier


—M. Sanchez