Walking through downtown Holland the other day, a friend and I noticed something odd. It was lunchtime—peak food hour—and HopCat, once the crown jewel of casual dining for both the bros and the brunch crowd, was... empty. Like, eerily empty. We’re talking “is it even open?” levels of quiet.
It’s wild, considering just a few years ago, HopCat was the spot. The fries were famous. People were obsessed. Then came the name change—from Crack Fries to Cosmik Fries in 2019—and with it, a massive media and PR campaign. Every outlet jumped in to cheer them on as they positioned the rebrand as a bold step toward inclusivity.
And the public? Not exactly on board. The whole thing backfired. People didn’t rally. They rolled their eyes. The fries were still there, sure—but the vibe had shifted. You could feel it. The brand that once felt fun and a little rebellious now felt corporate and sanitized.
The execs at BarFly Ventures, HopCat’s parent company, decided the old name made light of addiction and wasn’t inclusive.
“As we grow as a company we have come to realize that to make light of this drug and of addiction contradicts our values of inclusion and community. We want to thank our guests, employees and community members who have helped us come to this realization and apologize for the pain the name brought to others.”
You can watch their announcement here:
So out went the edgy branding, and in came the safer, more “appropriate” alternative.
Wrong call. They caved to the DEI mob that now decides what beliefs are marketable. And let’s be honest—something shifted after that. The fries were still decent, but the magic was gone. HopCat lost a bit of its soul. That name had weight. People remembered it. People craved it. The food didn’t change much, but somehow, the experience did.
And no matter how hard they try to rebrand or correct us for the sake of inclusion, they will forever be called Crack Fries. That’s what people still call them. That’s how they’re remembered. You can’t rewrite nostalgia.
In 2020, BarFly filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. They blamed COVID and debt—fair enough—but they filed just a few months into the pandemic. Let’s be real: the decline started earlier. The buzz had already faded. People had moved on. When you mess with the name that made you, you risk losing the audience that built you.
Now in 2025, HopCat is still around. Still pushing for inclusivity. Still calling their fries “Cosmik.” Still flying Progress Pride Flags in the window to make sure you know exactly where they stand. And that’s their right. It’s their business, their brand, their American freedom.
But here’s the question: Is anyone actually going inside?
Observation: From a quick glance at downtown storefronts, it seems like Hollanders prefer spots that focus on food—not messaging. A flag in the window doesn’t replace flavor. A inclusive mission statement doesn’t substitute for a menu that excites people.
So... does anyone still eat at HopCat? A few, maybe. But the crowds? They’ve moved on. And unless something changes—something real—they’re probably not coming back.
Eric McKee is a lifetime resident of West Michigan. Married with two energetic boys, he spends his days balancing work with dad life. Also, a firm believer that Almond St. Claus Windmill Cookies are the ultimate snack (and maybe a little too good).