I feel as though I'm confessing a sin. After my last post, rhapsodizing the genuine and condemning the plastic culture of our fast-food nation, I hop, skip, and jump over to the restaurant that is one step removed from McDonald's, to ingest pre-fab calories. Why?
Yet now I have to pause for a second. There is an assumption in my last paragraph that Applebee's is somehow negative. True it is a chain, where the food and the experience remain identical from location to location. You can have southwestern lime chicken in northern Michigan and gulf shrimp as far away as Seattle. But why do I assume that this is inherently a bad thing? In the 1950's and 60's, one of the original selling points for the McDonald's was that a diner could be assured of the same hamburger and french fries at every location. Consistency was something to be valued.
And yet, there is a foodie culture in America that turns up its collective nose at any scent of a chain. This attitude can be seen in movies like Office Space and Waiting, where the faux 'hometown' restaurant is lambasted as another cookie-cutter pasture in which the suburban American sheep can graze. I have to admit, my inner foodie laughs along with each cutting, snarky witticism.
I have to stop again. See, the reason we went there has nothing to do with Americans. Instead, we can blame it on the Russians.
It all started with my friend Liza's (pronounced Leetsa) obsession with the former Soviet Union and Russian culture in general. For the past two years, Liza has been studying Russian with the help of - wait for it - actual Russians. Thanks to the beauty of 'the Internets', Liza skypes, IMs, and emails with several members of the former Eastern Bloc on a regular basis. They exchange grammar tips, photographs, and recipes for Real Russian Easter Bread (yum). Despite the fact that she has a new story about Andrey, Tatiana, or Vadim nearly every week, Liza has never met any of these people in person. So when her Russian friends Tania and Max said they would be in the area, she leapt at the chance to have drinks with them.
When it came time to meet them, however, Liza's husband was out of town for work. In a desperate search for a 'wingman', she sent me a pleading IM:
"LYYYYYYNNNNNNNNN! Pleeeease come out tonight?!!!! There will be Russians and beer."
Now, I know that one should never go out on a school night, but it is equally important to help a friend in need... Plus, I really like beer.
So we had to try to figure out a place to go. Because, the Russians were not getting to Liza's house until about eight o'clock, we needed a restaurant or bar that would be open a little later than most non-chain restaurants. My city is really a college town peppered with unique restaurants, pubs, and other watering holes reminiscent of a place where everybody knows your name. The problem: Liza doesn't live in my city. She lives in a nearby town with very few non-chain gathering places. Despite our proximity to one another most of the interconnecting routes between us are former cow paths that display as much sense as the animals they are named after. Liza's reticence at leading two people, who speak limited English, through the winding streets to a location known only to her via Googlemaps is understandable. Or to quote her: "I'm a wuss."
So we ended up at Applebee's in her town. It was a pleasant evening. I had a Blue Moon - nice, light - and a tasty queso dip. In fact, in terms of talking to the Russians, Applebee's probably worked out better than one of the hip local joints, where the music or sports are cranked so loud that you barely think in your own language - to say nothing of a foreign one. It was also college night, so we introduced them to American traditions such as the fist bump, quarters, and beer pong (I explained it using St. Mary's Rules). All with appropriate visual aids.
The Russians were truly lovely. Max was particularly effusive about the variety found in our geography. Last week, he and his wife drove from San Francisco to Tahoe down to San Diego via Death Valley and then back up the coast. He marveled over the change in landscape over such a small swath of earth.
And yet, something bugged me. As we were ordering our appetizers Max said that they had been to Applebee's before, referring to it as "typical American food." Which I guess is what Applebee's really is. Sort of. You can walk into any Applebee's anywhere in the country and get the same food of American origin, queso dip or slider burgers or boneless wings, regardless of local cuisine. The menu has a nationwide uniformity that defies the very variety that Max had praised. For example, my queso dip was not particular to New England. Its cheese did not reflect the unique diet enjoyed by cows in the Green Mountains. Jalepenos included in the dip are not native to the Merrimack Valley. Max and Tanya got a slice of America, perhaps, but not a snapshot of the locale they visited.
But you know what, Damien and I did some of the same last summer, while we were in Scotland and England. We did try to experience the cuisine of the country - English Breakfast, Bangers and Mash, and, in Edinburgh, even a Massala curry with lamb and scotch whiskey. However, we didn't look for what was good in Yorkshire, Glasgow, or Dublin. We were trying to have the 'English food' experience without really giving that any deeper thought.
What we did (and Max and Tanya, for that matter) was diminish the diverse cuisine of a nation to one "typical" food experience. I get it. You have a limited time in a country, and you want cram as much of the culture in as possible. The problem is that by forgoing the individual, local meal, you also sacrifice any chance of connecting to the place you're in. By accepting the Disneyfied version, you can tick items off of your cultural checklist, without gleaning any of the local culture.
But I have to interrupt myself one more time. My immediate family (Papa Bear, The Mama, Karl, Ali, Cody, Damien and myself) will, given our druthers, choose a local, mom and pop joint. We will go out of our way to choose someplace 'unique' or 'special'. Why do we do this? In part to support the local economy. It seems nice to know the owners of a business. In reality, however, the managers, cooks and servers at a chain need to earn a living as much as at a local joint, so there must be more than that. Damien suggested that there are health reasons to eat at a local restaurant, but realistically, nachos are nachos whether at On the Border or our local cantina La Carreta. So I think that that is not it. Maybe it is a case of better, more locally grown ingredients; animals that have been humanely treated, but that's not the case in most local places. So maybe it is a case of preference. Gastronomic adventure. We Egglestons prefer to boldly go where we have not gone before. Simply this and nothing more.
Ours seems to be a minority opinion. Driving through much of America, one is presented with the same dining choices locale after locale . But this is not, after all, because of any Applebee's conspiracy. They are not the Evil Empire plotting to take over America and squeeze out the little guy. Their success is the free market at work. Applebee's (and other similar establishments) are in business to make money. If people did not go for that 'hometown' atmosphere, the chains would close up shop. So, clearly, they have found a client base to cater to. They deliver something that part of the populace wants.
Considering all of this, is there any reason (beyond fostering a sense of smug superiority) to condemn those who frequent Applebee's as sheep?
The answer to this lies wedged between the cushions of your therapist's couch. The more interesting question for me is why we make the food choices we do. By now we have all watched enough Dr. Phil and read enough diet books to know that we eat to satisfy more than just hunger. Food is wrapped up in emotion, entertainment, and culture. Eating at Applebee's is certainly tasty, welcoming, and offers tourists a glimpse of "American Food." All laudable qualities.
If, however, you are striving, as I am, to develop a personal food culture, then you have to figure out how something like Applebee's fits in. Do I prefer to go to my neighborhood pub for a plate of deep fried broccoli and a local micro brew? Sure I do. Does that mean that I would turn my nose up at a night out with friends, tasty food and beer, and a chance to meet some Russians at a chain place? No, of course not. In an American food culture even the 'plastic' has its place. The size of that place is up to you.
So, I ate at Applebee's last night, and it was great.
No comments:
Post a Comment