I shuttered when Jeff told me where he wanted to meet after work for dinner, but I knew I was too brain dead from the busy week to offer any kind of a decent alternative. As I pulled up to the turn and spied the rock façade of the building I couldn’t help the look of disgust on my face. Within moments, I had put my name in, received the round buzzer thingy, and began the 35 minute wait at The Olive Garden.
It seems so strange that this particular restaurant evokes the level of distain in me. Maybe it’s my Italian heritage that becomes repulsed by the mediocre, Americanized excuse for my native cuisine, or the fact that no matter what time of day you hit this place, there is always at least a 35 minute wait. Both of those arguments are valid, but what irks me about The Olive Garden is, not so much what it serves, but what it represents; the homogenization of this once unique country.
Growing up in Idaho wasn’t exactly a bastion of multi-culturalism, but at least when you pulled into town you knew you were in, what was formerly known as the Old West. Most of the restaurants in the town I grew up in were locally owned, all of them had biscuits and gravy on the menu, and they all played real country music. I could walk into a small café in the three square blocks that made up Downtown Nampa and see my classmate waiting tables as the owner was cooking and his wife was ringing up a check. Hank Williams (the first) or Patsy Cline would be playing in the background, and the gravy that soaked the biscuits was the kind of liquid that would instantly clog an artery.
My first experience at The Olive Garden happened my sophomore year of college. My parents had heard of this “wonderful” new restaurant that served Italian and opened near the mall in Boise. I wasn’t impressed from the get-go. The marinara sauce was weak, and although the endless salad was cool, even the tiramisu lacked that extra kick. Seven years passed before I made my way back to The Olive Garden, and by then, the resentment had started to kick in.
From my first time visiting to the second time I ate there, I had traveled to places both remote and populated and noticed that The Olive Garden was everywhere. The country’s landscape was changing, and instead of new locally-owned businesses sprouting up, it was all the same shit, town after town after town.
On one hand, it is nice to know that if I am ever stuck in Missoula, Montana and need sandpaper, Home Depot is only a stone’s throw away, but too much of this homogenization seems to be taking over everything that makes an area truly unique. The fun of traveling to a new place is exploring all of the nuances that make that area somewhere you want to visit. You stop at a costal town for seafood, a place in the South for barbecue, the East Coast for deli, and Seattle for coffee.
Aside from the homogenization, The Olive Garden also represents this country’s burgeoning thirst for all that is mediocre. At what point did our society decide to settle, and how come I wasn’t invited to this meeting? Maybe I sound like an old fart, but I remember the day when musicians had to know how to do more than lip sync really good, famous people became famous for doing something, and reality television was called the news.
Corporate America has merged so many times that the presidents of the big conglomerates don’t know which business cards to carry from one week to the next, and the result is an America that all looks the same.
Before I sound like I’m selling my husband out, let me say that he does enjoy good food, and The Olive Garden isn’t his idea of exquisite Italian. However, the thing he likes more than food is a deal, and an endless bowl of pasta for $8 is too good for any proper Jewish guy to pass up. There is an amazing Italian restaurant just around the corner from The Olive Garden where the wait is just about the same amount of time, but the food is out of this world. It is more expensive, and completely worth it, but it isn’t exactly the kind of place you can take a 2 year old. The Olive Garden is cheaper, has crayons, and was probably designed with enough buffers to muffle the screams of even the most annoying toddlers. On paper, The Olive Garden is the best choice for us, but it leaves me feeling like a complete sellout.
Perhaps from now on I should keep a running list of decent places to eat in my head that way when the question is put to me I’ll be able to avoid The Olive Garden, Azteca, Chili’s, and all of the other look-alike restaurants that keep an authentic, homegrown place from springing up. Sure the $8 never-ending pasta bowl may be a good deal, but my soul is worth far more than mediocre marinara.
6 comments:
i live just a few blocks north of one of the poorest areas of seattle, and parked in a grocery store parking lot is a coach that sells the. best. mexican. food. tacos for $1, etc.
that's the revenge of the marginalized classes - frequently they figure out a way to eat better than we do, for cheaper.
You're right; the Olive Garden et al. do Totally Suck. I grew up in Silicon Valley in the 80's and 90's, and some of my very earliest memories are of hating suburban look-alike mediocrity. My solution? Go out less often so you can save up to vote with your dollars; hire a sitter and support an honest to goodness local business that makes great food and makes you feel good, instead of supporting crappy $8 pasta that sucks and is no fun for anyone but the corporations that sell it.
My husband and I have started to make a good faith effort to avoid chain restaurants, and it's actually harder than you would imagine here in Las Vegas, and a lot of that has to do with where in the city you live. As a result, we got one of the Entertainment Guide's to the city - at least I think that's the name of it - it's full of buy one get one free offers from some mom and pop type joints around here (and most of them are a decent drive from where we live). I also keep a copy of what we've dubbed "The Canonical Restaurant List" in my purse for emergencies such as you've discribed.
It isn't Burger King, it isn't McDonalds, it isn't Kentucky Fried Chicken therefore it must be at least edible and possibly not potentially lethal. Yer can't beat a good curry though. Mind you most Indian restaurants over here aren't. They're actually Bangla Deshi. I think I'll vindaloo it tonight. Try a vindaloo n let me know what yer think (keep lots of water within easy reach)
4D - I love, love, love a good curry. Fortunately, one of my best friends happens to be Indian, and a fantastic cook (double happiness). The bummer is that Indian food is very fattening, and curry, particularly the yummy stuff with coconut milk, is really high calorie.
The town I live in is right next door to a town with a large Indian population, so I am never at a loss for a good curry. Hmmm, maybe that's what I'll talk hubby into tonight for dinner. He's a fan of the hot stuff, so it won't take too much arm twisting. Best of all, the Indian places are all locally owned and operated!
Apart from me vindaloo's I'd recommend Chicken Shashlick as a main with a Sheek kebab starter. Whatever rice with the main n Bombay Aloo, Mushroom Bhajee n Onion Bhajee side dishes. Sod this I'm having another tonight!
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