Robert Simpson: Food dependability takes you only so far

The announcement that Zaxby’s will open a new franchise at Fort Benning, one of nearly a dozen chain food outlets there now, set me to remembering when food, rarely franchised, excited me more. Franchised and centrally directed food outlets guarantee a certain minimum quality that you can depend on, while also ensuring that you’re unlikely ever to be pleasantly surprised by unusual goodness.

During my first period of service at Fort Benning, food outlets mostly blended into their surroundings, occupying whatever structure happened to be available, with no garish signs or blinking lights. I could buy a large, greasy, unhealthy, delicious cheeseburger at any of several locations. When I got orders to Schofield Barracks, Territory of Hawaii, I knew I’d be able to get a delicious greasy cheeseburger there, too, but it would not necessarily be identical to the ones at Fort Benning.

Food establishments out in the civilian world had also not yet been pressed by economics into the sameness of national or regional franchises. If I wanted Chinese food in Hawaii, I was not faced with a string of nearly identical all-you-can-eat buffets. I’d go to a famous old Chinese restaurant in Honolulu and have really delicious fare. For more frequent and more convenient off-post dining, the obvious choice, just outside Schofield’s main gate, was Kemoo Farms.

Kemoo Farms, in addition to serving excellent food, employed as servers local women who always amazed me with their accuracy. They took no notes, simply listening in turn to each diner at the table, and then bringing back each order without a mistake. My recollection of their recall ability was confirmed when, 8 years after my last meal there, I came out of Vietnam on R and R leave and met my wife in Hawaii. The Asian lady who had last waited on me 8 years before greeted me casually, as if I’d not been in for a week, with, “Hey, where you been?”

We were stationed at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, for 3 years. Other restaurants may deep-fry refrigerated biscuits in boiling oil, but one in the town of Leavenworth was the only one I’ve ever encountered. We loved them, often taking a bag full, steaming hot, to enhance our picnic lunch under the trees by the Missouri River. I think some of the cholesterol is still stuck in a couple of my arteries.

Wandering farther afield, we found Stephenson’s Apple Farm Restaurant, sitting in an apple orchard near Independence, Missouri, to be a favorite. Some of the best food I’ve ever tasted. For years afterward, my wife’s menus for special dinners usually included one or more dishes we’d first had at Stephenson’s. And while we never managed to get recipes from any of the restaurants in Kansas City, we loved one in the Country Club Plaza shopping center that served generous portions of mouth-watering tender roast beef, cooked precisely to order. I was so impressed that I bought an electric slicer in hopes of duplicating their process. But my efforts turned out more like a franchise – satisfactory but nothing to write home about.

A barbecue place in Jackson, Tennessee. It served barbecue so good that thereafter, even when it meant altering our route and schedule, when traveling from Leavenworth, Kansas to Georgia or to North Carolina, we managed always to swing through Jackson, Tennessee.

If you have the time and the money to afford upscale eating, you can still find individuality, even uniqueness. But just as in other areas of our lives, consolidation and uniformity are gradually squeezing more and more businesses into an acceptable but unexciting sameness. And that’s not all bad. I partake of their offerings, frequently having little choice to do otherwise. But I still yearn for one of those greasy, delicious cheeseburgers from the little snack bar that used to be on Wold Avenue on Fort Benning. Or a tantalizing dinner at Stephenson’s Apple Farm Restaurant.

This story was originally published March 18, 2016 at 4:16 PM with the headline "Robert Simpson: Food dependability takes you only so far."