For those of you who don’t already know, the Pioneer Valley is a treasure trove of culinary delights. In our downtown alone one can savor the flavors of the world, with restaurants serving the native cuisines from the vast expanses of Africa to the ancient temples of Asia, the musty wine cellars of Europe to the exhilarating spices of Latin America. Between Northampton and Amherst, one can achieve gustatory satiation of every conceivable type, from the exotic to the sophisticated to the gut-bustingly hearty.
Why then, amidst this riot of plenty, do I lay awake at night, a dull sensation of emptiness robbing me of sleep? In this, our cornucopia of delights we call Amherst, we lack a proper establishment to provide the careworn students and citizens with that most American of foods.
“Hamburgers?” I can imagine the inquiring modern reader wondering aloud to himself, while those around think him possessed. I’d hardly consider a food American that’s named after a bunch of mustard-eaters! Are french fries American? Besides, we’ve already got burgers covered with White Hut, and with Local Burger across the way in Northampton besides
No, I’m referring to that most gloriously simple and satisfying of comfort foods: fried chicken. It may be objected that Kentucky Fried Chicken is located in Hadley for the supposed aim of supplying this very product. But just because it may be objected doesn’t mean it should. I hope anyone who’s tasted properly prepared fried chicken will join with me in preemptively heaping scorn on the sorry sap who would make such a suggestion.
In these difficult times, everyone from the hardworking plumber to the frazzled student needs belly-rubbing, soul-stirring comfort food. People will gather and cuddle into the overstuffed chairs at Starbucks, but nothing is as comforting as a bucket of real fried chicken. Venti mocha? Flimflam. Oh, those corporate paymasters would love to serve us up that sophisticato nonsense to help us forget who we are and how far we’ve come. We need food that reminds us what it’s like to get our hands greasy; food to remind us that we’re the 99 percent.
Yes, everybody loves fried chicken. Even vegetarians, though they won’t admit it. Just imagine, Democrats and Republicans going straight from the picket to a picnic together, bucket and biscuits in hand!
Downtown is littered with businesses started by UMass graduates. Which one of you, gentle readers, will heed the call for a greasy, greasy destiny? We have more pizza restaurants per capita than North Korea has, well, anything per capita.
The sad truth is that we possess only two parts of the classic triumvirate of comfort foods: hamburgers and pizza. What is the Holy Trinity without Jesus? Would you trust a two-legged stool? For that matter, would you trust a two-legged fool? You do every time you buy from that that Colonel Sanders clown. We shall all remain ill at ease until a red-blooded, true son or daughter of Amherst delivers us from this deplorable state of affairs and opens up a fried chicken joint.
Gavin Beeker is a Collegian columnist. He can be reached at [email protected].
