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Dining Out Is Not The Same

Dining out is not the same as enjoying a nice home-cooked meal. They both are good options but they compare and differ when it comes to the quality and variety of food and the atmosphere. Few, if any, major forms of recreation in American history have changed as much as dining out. The trek from Victual Desert to Gourmet Cornucopia gained momentum as the Industrial Revolution made eating away from home a necessity for armies of workers as well as travelers.

But for the next 100 years, the typical restaurant aimed no higher than to emulate "home cooking." Then, in the 1960s, changing demographics, ethnic diversity, technology, and American ingenuity combined to change eating habits at a dizzying pace. By 2003, no country could match the United States in the variety of foods available nor in innovations in the preparation, service, and dining ambiance for a population that consumes 54 billion meals a year that are not prepared at home.

In the United States, hot dogs and their many variations (corn dogs, chili dogs) are perhaps the most common street food, particularly in major metropolitan areas such as New York City. Roasted and salted nuts are also often sold. Pretzels and cheesesteak are common in Philadelphia. Throughout America, ice cream is sold out of trucks. Chinese cuisine is sold in many large cities and Chinese neighborhoods. Pizza is often available from window counters.

History Bites Snack on this timeline of all things tasty! 300,000 B.C. Fire is discovered Cave man cooks quickly realize that caramelized pterodactyl is tastier than rotting corpse of pterodactyl. 3000 B.C. An Arab nomad invents cheese after storing milk in a sheep's stomach. Pretty sure every cheese since has tasted better than this one. 1700 The Earl of Sandwich gets a popular kind of food named after him. We forget which one, but we probably ate it for lunch today! 1847 Mason Crockett Gregory creates the deep-fried donut with a hole in it. America's obesity problem rises from the delicious primordial ooze. 1874 Charles Feltman invents the hot dog in Coney Island, New York. On the Cyclone roller coaster 50 years later, hot dog barf debuts. 1940 First McDonald's opens. Shortly thereafter the Hamburglar does time for stealing sandwiches, and is promptly shanked by his cell mate. 1949 Invention of the turkey baster results in moist, tasty Thanksgiving birds...and allows lesbians to experience the joys of motherhood! 1963 Julia Child hits the airwaves introducing America to French cooking and the concept of a sexy chef...or was that just us? 1960s Blowtorches first used in cooking. Used to heat the crust on crème briflee, sear meats, and make tasty "crack-smoke soup" ever since. 1970s Fondue parties replace key parties as the cool bashes of choice. Sadly, melted cheese turns out to be harder on shag carpeting than orgies. 1984 New York s Gotham Bar and Grill ushers in the high-end trend of cuisine nouvelle, which is French for "less food for a lot more money." 1990s Skeletal fashion models kick off decade of "heroin chic," ushering in emaciated body types and, more importantly, leaving more food for us! 2006 Anthony Bourdain eats the still-beating heart of a freshly killed cobra. Maxim staff one-ups him by dining at Red Lobster in Times Square. 2007 Locally grown and raised food becomes the hottest trend in eating, which is bad news for Sir Oinks A Lot, our beloved office pig.

My take on chain restaurants is that chain restaurants aren't bad. They just aren't good, either. Chain food reduces the volatility of your dining experience. You rarely have a really great meal, a memorable meal, at a chain. (Your date throwing up Shrimp Fra Diavolo does not count.) But you also rarely have a really bad one. People have forgotten about all the really bad restaurant food there used to be - and still is, in places that don't have the density or income to support chain restaurants. People look at the rich individually owned markets of the few big cities that have them, and the great family owned places in their own area, and conclude that chain restaurants must be dragging America's food tastes down.

The chains are putting a floor on quality; any family owned restaurant that cannot provide at least as good food and service as a chain has gone out of business. The average family owned restaurant is probably better than a similar chain, but that doesn't mean that if the chains went away, we'd have better food. We'd have a lot of soggy pasta and awful hotel buffets - remember those, small town America? Not an improvement.

And for a more mobile country, chains make a lot of sense. If you travel a lot, search costs start to matter. In other words, there's nothing wrong with chains. Because the best thing about chains is that if you don't like them, you don't have to eat there.

Ethnic diversity and the lack of a strictly defined national cuisine (such as those enjoyed by France or Italy) has given new meaning to the term "melting pot." In most urban areas in America and Canada, it is not uncommon to find vendors selling falafel, gyros, kebobs and rice, panini, crepes, french fries, chicken tikka masala, eggrolls, or other popular international dishes. Mexican foods such as tacos and tortas are sold in neighborhoods with Mexican population and the variations of street food tend towards food with a Latin American flair.

In certain neighborhoods Tamale vendors are stationed every few yards. Shirtless men sell drinking coconuts, lopping off the tops with rusty machetes when you slide them a buck or two. Fruit carts sluice watermelons or mangos with lime juice and disabling lashings of hot chili. Purveyors of the cholesterol-laden crack known as bacon-wrapped hot dogs are prepared on makeshift grills rigged from propane tanks and old shopping carts.

Taco trucks, the acknowledged aristocrats of street food, often have hourlong lines for their exquisite fare, not just the usual tacos and burritos but street food from every imaginable region of Mexico: Oaxacan clayudas and Sinaloan seafood cocktails and Mexico City-style quesadillas and Guadalajara-style goat and the godhead sandwiches called cemitas from Puebla are all available for less than the price of a quarter pounder with cheese.

Taco carts with the smell of charring meat, the fire, the islands of warmth and light in the cold dark, practically compel you to eat off soggy paper plates balanced on the roof of your car, to watch a cone of marinated pork blackening on its flame-licked spit as if it were the Super Bowl in sudden-death overtime. Does it matter that the stand, set up in front of an auto-body shop, has no name or license? No. You bite into the tacos while the bubbling meat is still hot enough to scorch your greasy lips, and in that moment you know there is no better food on Earth.

Some people say L.A. has an illegal immigrant problem. We say L.A. has a Mexican food solution. In a city littered with mom–and–pop taco stands serving genuine south–of–the–border cuisine, it’s tough to go wrong, but Tito’s Tacos in Culver City takes first prize—and they’ve got the long lines to prove it. When it comes to house specialties, the old–fashioned hard–shells are tasty, but the real draw is Tito’s massive burrito, bursting with chili con carne, refried beans, and cheddar cheese. One caveat: no pollo–stuffed option. (That means chicken, maricón.)

Every year since 1960, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana has dedicated the first weekend in May to crawfish. The wacky festival features contests for mud–bug cooking, racing, and eating, and dishes up the critters every imaginable way—boiled, fried, stewed, and stuffed into anything stuffable.

Cruising I–10 from Texas to New Mexico, be sure not to miss the neon sign for Hiebert’s Fine Foods. Their “world famous steak fingers”—strips of batter–fried beef topped with tomatillo sauce and loads of melted cheddar—are so good they almost put New Mexico on the map.

In 1943 maitre d’ Ignacio “Nacho” Anaya crafted a snack at the Victory Club in Piedras Negras, Mexico: tortilla chips with melted cheese and sliced jalapeño on top. Today the nearby El Moderno, where Anaya also worked, still serves his original recipe. Olé!

The Fort is a suburban Denver restaurant modeled on historic Bent’s Old Fort, a legendary trade center along the Santa Fe Trail—and it’s got an authentic menu to match. Translation: It’s nothin’ but meat. Bison marrow, elk chop, prairie oysters, buffalo ribs…Put the women and children to bed and enjoy.

Pedernales River Rat Chili Ingredients 1 Tbs. bacon grease 2 lbs. “chili ground” beef chuck roast Bag #1 3 Tbs. chili powder 1 tsp. garlic powder 2 tsp. onion powder ½ tsp. black pepper ½ tsp. salt ½ tsp. cayenne pepper Bag #2 3 Tbs. chili powder 1 Tbs. cumin 2 tsp. garlic powder ¼ tsp. white pepper ½ tsp. oregano powder Other ingredients A pinch of basil 2 cups chicken broth 2 cups beef broth 1 cup Hunt’s tomato sauce 1 beef bouillon cube ½ tsp. light brown sugar Cooking Instructions Heat bacon grease in a large, heavy pot. Add meat; cook till gray, stirring continuously; add broths and half of Bag #1. Cook covered at a medium boil 45 minutes. Stir every 10 minutes, adding water as needed to maintain consistency. After 45 minutes, add rest of Bag #1. Once meat is tender, add tomato sauce and Bag #2. Ditto the bouillon and brown sugar. Season to taste with salt and white pepper. Lastly, add cayenne pepper for optimal hotness—i.e., until your eye twitches.

Texas Pete is actually made in North Carolina and named for a guy whose real name was Harold. But never mind the false advertising. Fact is, this fiery sauce—a perfect balance of peppers, vinegar, and salt—kicks Tabasco’s ass. Why? Douse a Saltine spread with mayo and find out.

Why leave home when slow–cooked pig parts can be delivered right to your doorstep? Smithfield hog thighs are dry–cured, smoked over oak, hickory, and applewood, and then aged nearly a year—so addictively salty their production method is protected by law. Order, eat, repeat.

Apologies to Queens, New York, not to mention guys with real Greek names, like Dmitri—but the country’s best lamb sammy resides in Cleveland at a tiny stand called Steve’s. Choose between the only two menu items: regular gyros or jumbo.

Baltimore does two things well: crack and crabs. For the latter, head to Obrycki’s, where they’ll dump a bucket of steamed, seasoned hard–shells onto your table, then hand you a mallet. Nice to be on the other side of the gavel for once, isn’t it?

Open wide for the muffuletta. Invented at Central Grocery in the French Quarter, it consists of one loaf of muffuletta bread split horizontally, spread with marinated olives, then layered with capicola, salami, and mortadella and crowned with Swiss and provolone cheeses. Meat sweats, anyone?

To true-blue American foodies, Nashville is as much the home of the Meat and Three as it is the home of country music. And no one does it better than Jack Arnold (Arnold’s Country Kitchen), who whips your mouth into a tizzy. You really can’t go wrong with any combo of one meat and three sides, but if we had to pick, we’d go for roast beef with mac’n’cheese, turnip greens, and mashed potatoes. And cornbread. And banana pudding. And maybe a slice of chess pie. Then we’d go back for seconds.

Consuming 28 ounces of steak is not for the weak of stomach, but the rib eye at Babb Bar Cattle Baron Supper Club — a log-and-antlers joint situated between Glacier National Park and the Canadian border—makes the battle to swallow a breeze. The rich, addictive marinade means the nearly two pounds of red meat vanishes with alarming speed. (Don’t even think about the 35-ounce T-bone unless you have a death wish.)

Kelly Alexander. Now, We Can Eat! . August 2007.

Eat This Book: A Year of Gluttony & Glory on the Competitive Eating Circuit From Nathan's hotdogs to chicken wings, from fried asparagus to matzo balls, this is the first book to take readers inside the fascinating world of competitive eating. 30 photos.

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