Raising Cane's Chicken Fingers — Restaurant in Saint Charles

Absolutely HORRIBLE experience. I arrived at 10:45 as I had seen that this location closes at 12am. There are quite a few people in line, it wrapped around the entire building. I was in line for over 30 minutes. I finally get to the speaker to place my order, and no one is saying anything. The person in front of me who ordered drove right past the speaker and there are plenty of people behind me in line as well. I thought maybe they are taking orders at the window. I pull up to the first window, there’s nothing but boxes. I see the car in front of me getting food at the second window, so I pulled forward thinking they ordered there and had food in boxes already. Who knows at this point. I get up to the second window and I can see three people through the window. One guy on a phone call and cleaning, and two females as well. They mouth “We’re closed”. And I said “Uh” because I am so confused, and they go “WE’RE CLOSED”, yelling at me through the closed window. And rolling their eyes and waving their hands around. I am still SO confused. I say “Uh okay?” Because I seriously don’t understand what has happened in the last 30 plus minutes. They mocked me and said “oKaY” and I drove away still so confused. I personally work in customer service also in a fast food restaurant- and never in a million years would I treat anyone like that. These people could have come onto the speaker and said “I’m sorry we closed early”. Instead I was ignored and mocked. I can’t believe Canes would hire such...

Raising Cane’s isn’t just chicken — it’s a rite of passage, a baptism by grease and glory. The second you open that box, light bursts forth like the Ark of the Covenant, and your mortal eyes aren’t ready for it. Hand-battered in the flames of Mount Olympus, then lowered gently into oil blessed by southern grandmothers who whisper secrets of flavor into the fryer. Each bite doesn’t just crunch, it detonates. It’s crispy armor shielding a core of pure, juicy tenderness that could heal generational trauma.

And the sauce — THE SAUCE. Don’t call it sauce. That’s disrespect. This is a potion brewed in the hidden kitchens of Valhalla, a liquid crown jewel that could end wars if world leaders would just dunk a tender in it and chill out. I don’t dip my chicken in Cane’s sauce — I baptize it.

Then there’s the toast. That Texas toast doesn’t just crunch, it sings. It’s thick, buttery, and shamelessly perfect, like bread that sold its soul to the carb devil and came back stronger. Honestly, if the toast asked me to fight for it in battle, I would pick up a sword without hesitation.

And the coleslaw? No. We don’t talk about the coleslaw. That’s a distraction. Cane’s is about the trinity: chicken, sauce, toast. Everything else is...

My family is a regular at this location and boy do we miss Megan! My 87 year old mother loves the chicken but asks me to get it lightly floured...when Megan managed she made sure that we felt special and that the team was happy to support us with that. Just now I ordered her usual, with no toast extra fries. The kitchen immediately sent out the order, which can't happen with how she likes her tenders, so I sent it back. When the employee asked the expeditor what to do with that order I overheard him say to toss it in the trash or an employee could have it. When the right tenders came out the fries seemed like a normal portion, not a no toast extra fries portion, so I showed it and asked if I could have a few more. The employee in the back (key holder??) said he'd already given me a double portion and me asking means I'd have a four times portion...he was so rude and flippant about it.....I was shocked, absolutely shocked as I've never been spoken to like that here, and he'd just told the employee to toss the order they'd handed without my mom's special tenders. I've never asked for a few more fries before and only did it because the portion seemed small. This location has really gone away from an exceptional experience Pic...