It’s 3:30 am. As I sip/lick/suck/slurp my chicken flavored Ramen noodles that seem to get softer and mushier as I reach the bottom of my makeshift bowl, I can’t help but think about the impact fast food has on our lives. But what exactly is fast food? After googling the term ‘fast food,’ I can confidently say ‘fast food’ is meant to refer to food that can be prepared and served very quickly. Does this definition still hold true today?
I’m an Indian American. When I was 13, my parents decided to move to India. After living in California all my life, the sudden change was overwhelming to say the least. Everything was different, from the weather to the way people spoke. One of the more intriguing aspects of the move was the food. Typical of the young adventurous 13 year old that I was, Indian fast food appealed to me immediately.
I remember my first experience with Indian fast food. It was a popular dish consisting of a few buns and lots of tongue tingling curry. As I popped 5 rupees to the slightly plump, sweaty man behind the counter, I saw him signal a poor subordinate to concoct this delicacy they liked to call Pav Bhaji. I saw the man pull out a few buns from a funny looking plastic cover, slap some butter on them and hurriedly mash a bunch of potatoes and spice together to make the curry. I could smell the inviting aroma as he passed the plate to me. The glistening butter on the buns only increased my want to take a satisfying bite. After weaving through the many people eagerly awaiting their own masterpieces, I finally found a small spot where I thought I could linger awhile and be transported into the world of this Pav Bhaji. I excitedly picked up a bun and put a considerable amount of curry on top of it. Finally, the time had come. I decided to take a big bite. As the aromatic sensations flew up my nostrils, a perfect mix of butter, bread, and curry began to form in my mouth. First, I felt like I was in Heaven. Then, I felt like chewing this bite as fast as I could so I could take the next one. Then, I felt sick. The Pav Bhaji was so spicy I could have sworn my tongue was split in half burning on fire. As I frantically looked around my little corner for a source of water to relieve me of the pain caused by my tongue being cut in half by the Pav Bhaji, a store across the road serving some hot chai caught my eye. I quickly scurried across the street almost getting run over and nearly taking the lives of a few pigeons on the sidewalk. It was only after taking my first sip of chai did I realize that a hot liquid would not rid my tongue of the spicy sensations it was currently suffering from. By the time I returned to my little corner, my burning tongue had subsided, and with it, my Pav Bhaji had disappeared. Some poor kid must have stolen it as he saw me prancing across the street. I didn’t mind too much though, I wasn’t planning on checking in the hospital for spice overdose that day anyway.
Needless to say, my first experience with Indian fast food was less than desirable. As the years progressed though, I slowly built a tolerance to the spice. By the time I plucked the courage to attempt to consume my second Pav Bhaji, I had come up the ladder from a slightly sweet and sour Sev Puri to a medium spicy slightly crunchy Bhel Puri. Eating at Indian fast food joints/carts started to become a regular thing among my group of friends. We explored all parts of the Indian fast food food chain, from the lowest in the makeshift carts to the highest at the 7 star hotels. Funnily enough, although fast food at the hotels cost as much as the carts the roadside vendors served on, the fast food joint/cart food always tasted a lot better.
As my fascination with Indian fast food grew over the years, I often thought about American fast food. A bunch of fries with a burger and a coke to go with it is my take on an average American fast food meal. What American fast food lacks in spice, it certainly makes up for in grease. Although it was too long ago for me to remember the whole experience, my first experience with American fast food came in the form of chicken nuggets. It became the staple of my Saturday morning diet from the ages of 5 to 9. That was when I graduated from chicken nuggets to greasy burgers and chicken sandwiches, with a side meal of salty and hot french fries and a coke, of course.
American fast food, it seems, can take many entities. Mexican, for example is one of them. I fell in love with Taco Bell when I was about 10. There’s nothing more enticing to your mouth than a hot soft bean burrito which fills your mouth with oodles of pure pleasure, all topped by a crunchy yet hot cheese quesadilla with fire sauce on the side. This, obviously, precluded with 7 layer nachos and ending with a crunchy taco. Who ever said cold,
fresh lettuce can’t go with steaming hot meat and yellow cheese?
The more I think about fast food and how it’s affected my life, I don’t think about the amount of time I’ve saved eating fast food as compared to a legitimate meal. No, I think about the great taste and how much it’s satisfied me over the years. Sure, it isn’t all that healthy and wholesome, but that’s not what fast food is for. That’s what Subway is for. Fast food today is centered around taste and little else. It can be made and served quickly, but the time taken to prepare it is no longer it’s main purpose. Fast food chains don’t advertise “Can be made in just 40 seconds!” They advertise its delicious factor. And hey, it sells. A lot.
Sources-
http://weblogs.variety.com/photos/uncategorized/2008/05/15/chickensand.jpg
http://i260.photobucket.com/albums/ii29/bhawana_2008/PavBhaji.jpg
http://blog.news-record.com/staff/culture/Big%20Bell%20Box%20Meal%20(theirs).jpg
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