Remember When Buffet Chains Were All the Rage?

The gluttonous habits that turned us into one of the most obese nations in the world have also turned us into one of the dumbest

Courtesy of BBC

They were all the rage in the 1980s. Every state in the country had a national chain representative like Sizzler, Ponderosa Steakhouse, Old Country Buffet, or regional ones trying to make it big. The love for buffets was so strong that it makes me think that the habits formed then, overeating to the point of getting sick, led us to the willingness of so many Americans to be manipulated by right-wing media.

The buffets were popular in central New Jersey, where I grew up, but there was no craze. We went, and it was a fun evening that left you sick afterward because you ate too much. I wouldn’t experience the frenzied craze around the overflowing buffets until I visited my grandparents in the mountains of western Pennsylvania. There was a local buffet similar to Sizzler, but for my life, I cannot recall its name — Hogg’s or something like that. 

My grandfather, a successful and well-respected farmer from the Dempseytown-Titusville area of Pennsylvania, was less enthusiastic than my God-fearing, Methodist grandmother. Pop would have one overflowing plate of food, a dessert, and a coffee — done. Our grandmother, however, would load up on everything twice. Ever obsessed with her only son, my dad, she’d let out a “Jeer-rey (local accent for ‘Jerry’), did you get some of the aw graat’n pah-tatas?” She seldom directed comments at her grandkids, but by pushing our heart-unhealthy father to overeat, she was also dropping hints for us.

“Gram, it is good?” 

“Oh, yeah. It’s heavenly.” Off you went to please grandma by showing her how much you could stuff into one young body. My grandmother didn’t live to see Trump, but I am positive that she would have loved him. 

I traveled through that area two years ago and noticed that Trump signs with Pence crossed out everywhere. Popping into a local eatery, Fox News blared from a TV behind the counter where the food was being prepared. The lunch-eating crowd talked, and the news on the TV framed many conversations. That made me decide I needed to spend the night in the area and do some observing.

The local steak buffet we went to was long gone. I couldn’t find any buffet places at all. I did find a nice place called King’s Family Restaurant. It was a cheery place with kind people who I assumed believed in the fantasies and lies of Trump because Fox News told them to — MAGA hats were everywhere. My sense was that they weren’t particularly angry or hateful, though. They just believed the information, regardless of how hypocritical and farfetched it might have been because something had to be believed. The impulse to question some of the lunacy never struck them because “What could be the reasons for doubting otherwise?”

When I ordered my meal, I expected a large portion of food. Compared to the rest of the world, American portions are easily two and three times larger. My open-faced hot turkey platter with mashed potatoes was huge. I also got a side of baked mac and cheese. I couldn’t move when I was done. I couldn’t drink even my water I was so stuffed.

“Dessert, honey? We have the best pie in the area, and our Frownie Sundae is world-famous!” I politely declined. I ordered a coffee.

As I sat leisurely sipping on my coffee, I watched as obese men, women, and children flowed past me. I watched as vats of “soda pop” were consumed, at least two full glasses in some cases before the food came, and then, when the starters and massive meals had all been devoured, the dessert phase commenced. Frownies, apple pie — that looked amazing — Sundae, cinnamon buns, and more. As I sipped my third coffee, my waitress came over with half a piece of pie. 

“I saw you looking at that when I took it over. Somehow, we ended up with half a slice.” Nodding toward her colleagues, who ranged from heavy to obese, “Lord knows none of us need an extra piece of pie.” 

I was so touched. My waitress’s shift was ending, so she set down the bill and wished me safe travels, taking note that I wasn’t from around there. As she was leaving, she waved from the door. I waved back and smiled. I would leave her a big tip regardless of the MAGA hat she slipped on her head before exiting. 

Overeating simple food 

MAGA hats were like the new cowboy hat in King’s Family Restaurant. Some of the men wore them during the meal. Some hung them nearby. Some of the hats were tossed on dividers between booths. Scanning the place, it looked like someone had scattered red M&M’s around it. Of course, I am not going to link overeating to Trumpism. I don’t have the scientific proof to back that notion up, and I know plenty of obese liberals.

I think something is to be said about our nation’s addiction to bad, salty, over-sweetened food. Before the buffet craze began, portions were sane. The introduction of corn syrup as a cheap replacement for natural sugar in the early 80s led to the explosion in portions, which escorted us into the obesity era. If you look at movies or videos from the 1970s and 1980s, people so heavy they could barely move were few and far between. Nowadays, everywhere you go, massive human beings struggle through life because overeating bad food is just so easy and often too cheap. 

I am sure that I will be attacked for calling obese people somehow mentally inadequate — I am not, of course. When I am attacked for this, though, my point will have been proven. Before people try to assess the veracity of an argument, they race to their intellectual safe zones — which I liken to the over-salty, over-sweet massive portions we stuff into our faces three times a day. 

Hunger is discomforting, but most Americans don’t know true hunger. They know the pangs of habit. The clock strikes 12, and the body demands salt and sugar. An opinion is put forth that doesn’t align with our own, so we attack and name-call — I am also guilty of it. Liberals do it when forcing everyone to accept politically correct terms, and conservatives do it when they repeat the non-stop lies of Trump and right-wing media with no regard they are advocating the end of our democracy. 

While the buffet craze gripped the country, Fox News suddenly appeared on the horizon, rewarding a physically-slowing nation with the saturated fat and sweet and salty goodness of stereotypes, generalizations, and “whatabouts.” Every Fox News report became intellectual comfort food — like a big, open-faced turkey sandwich slathered in gravy with buttery mashed potatoes. 

The human tongue can appreciate five tastes (sweetness, sourness, saltiness, bitterness, and savoriness, also known as umami). Most Americans eat only sweet and salty, and when a dish dares to slip into the other tastes, panic sets in for many, “Wow, that’s an odd taste. It’s so sour.” I have friends who complain about Munich-style lager — the best beer in the world — because it has “too much taste.” What they mean is that it has savoriness. They can feel the beer in their mouths. The beers they prefer, Bud Light, for example, is like water in the mouth and offers no taste-receptor resistance. 

Maintaining a massive buffet with 15 main dishes, 30 sides, soups, and a dozen desserts is not easy, so companies “dumb down the tastes” relying on corn syrup, salt, and artificial flavoring everywhere. McDonald’s adds artificial flavoring to its burgers, offering hints of “grilled meat.” It’s all fake. It’s all a fantasy, but it tastes so damn good, and it’s so addictive.

The country-style buffet, a thing of the past in most of America, has nonetheless altered how we regard food: It should be uncomplicated in its taste properties and in excess. When we get that, we are happy as pigs rolling in shit.

And this is precisely how right-wing media like Fox News feeds conservative Americans. 

An American returns home, stuffed to the gills, with sweet and salty food. Plopping down into the chair before the mega-pixeled screen and Fox News, the sugar high begins to subside — crankiness sets in. Fox talking heads are launching into another round of pure and unadulterated BS — the lights of Fox are flashing, the running warnings of an immigration invasion race across the bottom of the screen — and then the 24-ounce Dunkin Donuts Pumpkin Spice frappuccino (62 teaspoons of sugar) is handed to the Fox viewer.

Sip. Relief. The sugar high continues, and all of the BS on the screen again makes sense.