Monday Munchies: Highway Nostalgia for the Last Time?

Some of you might remember my Cracker Barrel rant from way back in August. To avoid a long rehashing, I'll just say that, for as long as I can recall, Cracker Barrel billboards have comforted me. Whether traveling with my mother (as a child) or with my husband (as an adult), the sight of their brown-and-yellow logo has filled me with nostalgia – for the simple board games and puzzles of my youth, for the home-cooked meals at Mom's house, for wholesome books and television shows of long ago...

But sadly, Cracker Barrel – that ever-present, old-fashioned restaurant and country store – has lost some of its luster over the years. Every time, in fact, that Dan and I have ventured into one, we've left disappointed – whether because the service was slow, the food was lukewarm, or all of the above. It had reached the point where Dan simply refused to stop there ever again – no matter how much I, with my misguided sense of nostalgia and loyalty, tried to convince him otherwise.

So, we were at a standstill – Dan, unwilling to fork over another dime to this disillusioning establishment, and I, unable to let go of the illusion – that is, until I took the sagacious advice of one Stephanie Faris and shared my displeasure with CB's corporate headquarters. Of course, I never thought I would receive a response – after all, how many times have we complained about the practices of a corporation, only to be ignored? But, as reported in my September follow-up to the initial rant, I did indeed get a response – in the form of a heartfelt apology and a “gold card,” entitling me to a complimentary meal for two, at the Cracker Barrel of my choosing.

On that day in late September, I asked my online pals if I should swallow my pride and take Cracker Barrel up on its generous offer (and/or marketing ploy) – or if I should simply toss the card at my earliest opportunity. Well, several of you answered – Bridget, Martha, Roni, Becky, and Deb encouraged me to take advantage of the free food and excellent service that the card promised; Steph suggested that I just keep the card as a reminder of the lesson learned; and Susan thought it would be best to use the card, then never return. Well, today, while en route from the Florida Keys to New Orleans, Dan and I decided to give CB one more try. Yes, without my even pointing it out, Dan pulled into the parking lot of a rain-drenched Cracker Barrel in Brooksville, Florida, and smiled that naughty little smile of his. At that moment, the hunger pangs were so fierce that I was actually excited about our potentially ill-fated return to the CB fold, so after fumbling for the little “gold card,” which I had long ago stowed in my travel bag, we left the kitty in the van and headed inside for a short respite.

After strolling between the rocking chairs on the porch and passing through the ubiquitous inner country store – filled with an impressive selection of candy, candles, cookbooks, chimes, apparel, toys, dolls, games, and music, not to mention the paraphernalia of yesteryear (from washboards to rolling pins to watering cans) hanging from the ceiling – we were quickly seated beside a front window. Soon, a pleasant, middle-aged waitress named Carol arrived to take our drink order – hot Darjeeling tea for me, Diet Coke for Dan. Once she'd returned with the beverages, we were ready (if nervous) to order.

While waiting for our food, I took in our surroundings – from the bluegrass band playing on the speakers to the vintage décor on the latticed walls (including tennis rackets, fishing poles, old games such as pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, and signs like “Headquarters for Keen Kutter quality pocket knives,” which reminded me of my stepbrother, Kit Keen, who, oddly enough, used to work in a Cracker Barrel). Dan, meanwhile, played with the peg game that was sitting on the tabletop. Of course, it didn't take him long to get frustrated with his inability to get rid of all the pegs but one (the object of the game) – although, to be fair, he's still suffering from the cold that I gave him three weeks ago.

By the time our food arrived, we had almost forgotten about the little “gold card,” which I had yet to show to our waitress. Dan immediately started delving into his sampler plate – containing chicken and dumplins, meatloaf, country-style ham, and his three chosen sides, corn, mashed potatoes, and fried apples – while I dug into my roast beef. It didn't take long, however, for us to remember why we had come – to give Cracker Barrel another honest-to-goodness chance – but while the service was surprisingly speedy and the food was still tasty, I admit that the meal was still less than satisfactory. Although my roast beef was warm and tender, the fried okra was delicious, and we both enjoyed the shared biscuits and corn muffins, Dan's food wasn't quite as hot as he's come to expect elsewhere. The fried apples were so cold, in fact, that he opted not to touch them at all.

Ultimately, I enjoyed the meal more than Dan did, but still, he admitted that it wasn't as bad as he'd expected it would be. Not a ringing endorsement, but better than it could have been. Perhaps I should've shown our waitress the “gold card” from the start, but I'm not typically a fan of special treatment – and frankly, I wanted to give our visit an honest try. I'm not sure what this says about the future of our Cracker Barrel encounters – it's likely that we'll never go again – but that won't stop me from feeling a little surge of nostalgia every time we pass by one of the ubiquitous billboards. In fact, we just passed another one in Alabama, and despite my mediocre meal earlier today, I still felt a moment of happiness. Is something wrong with me, or am I just a sucker for the joys of childhood?

Tuesday Travels: Highway Nostalgia Revisited

Hi, everyone! I’m still trying to juggle way too many projects this week – and I might have to keep some posts short to save time – but you knew I couldn’t stay away for long...

I’d like to begin today’s post, though, by saying thanks to my hubby, Dan, for helping me out yesterday – and thanks to all of you for being so gracious to him!

Last month, I told you that Dan and I would be leaving Michigan by the end of September. Well, that hasn’t happened yet. For a number of reasons, we decided to extend our “summer” stay to the middle of October. Anyway, in that same post, I shared my dismay regarding a formerly frequent stop along the highways and byways of America: Cracker Barrel, a nostalgic, country-style restaurant and gift shop that was once a staple of my road trips with Mom but has since become a haven of lukewarm food and slow service. According to the comments that day, it seems that I wasn’t the only one that Cracker Barrel had disappointed. Stephanie Faris, whose had several bad experiences there, even suggested that I visit their website, comment on my poor experiences, and link CB to my site.

In response, I wrote:

I’m totally with you, Steph. I don’t think this is simply a case of romanticizing a place of my youth – I think the food and service at Cracker Barrel HAVE declined in recent years. And you’re right – I should let CB know about my disappointment – instead of simply venting my frustrations on a blog (although, as a side note, a blog is a terrific place to vent one’s frustrations). And I think it’s great that you’re planning to follow through with the CB survey. How else will they know that they could be losing long-time customers? The servers I’ve met recently certainly wouldn't care. Maybe the corporate office would?

Then, I took Steph’s advice. I left a heartfelt comment on the CB website, linking it to my post, to which I received this reply:

Thanks for visiting our website. We’re glad you wrote, giving this Old Country Computer a chance to say “hi” back. Please know that a “real” guest relations representative – a person! – will take a look at your message, sharing your thoughts with the right people, and will e-mail you back if that’s what’s needed.

As expected, I never heard from the “Old Country Computer” again. Then, just the other day, I received a long-awaited packet of mail from my New Orleans postal address – and lo and behold, I discovered a letter from Cracker Barrel (dated August 20, 2009 – the day after I received the automated email reply):

Thank you for bringing to our attention your recent concerns regarding visits to various Cracker Barrel Old Country Store locations. Please accept our sincere apologies for any disappointment you have experienced.

Please be assured that steps have been taken to address the experiences you had and to make certain the necessary corrections are made. I have contacted our Operations Department and they will be addressing your issues to ensure that proper procedures are being followed.

Please accept the enclosed complimentary meal card as a token of our appreciation for your patronage. The gold card may be used at the Cracker Barrel location of your choice. We hope that your next visit to Cracker Barrel will be much more pleasant.

Now, while I’m tickled that someone actually paid attention to my complaint, the cynical side of me knows that it’s just a ploy to lure me back to the Cracker Barrel fold. So, here’s the question: Do I swallow my pride and use the “gold card” the next time I spy a Cracker Barrel on the road, or do I follow my instinct and forget the card exists? Dan, naturally, says we should stay away and avoid further disappointment. But I'm curious – what do you say?

Tuesday Travels: Highway Nostalgia

Yesterday, I told you that my husband and I will be trading Michigan for New Orleans in less than six weeks. We’ve made this particular interstate journey several times, which means that we’ll soon be passing the same exit signs, rest areas, and eateries that we’ve often spotted during previous trips. While I love to travel little-known roads and discover little-visited places, it’s comforting to traverse familiar interstates, with their recognizable hotel and restaurant chains (and related billboards). One of my favorite stops has often been Cracker Barrel, an old-fashioned restaurant and country store that now exists in 41 U.S. states, from Idaho to Florida.

Every time I spy a Cracker Barrel billboard, I feel a little thrill inside, mostly because my mother and I used to eat there often, while on our many road trips across America. I can still remember the delight of strolling past the rocking chairs on the porch and into the inviting country store, which offered a cornucopia of old-fashioned candies, cookbooks, home furnishings, and other comforting souvenirs. (This was, of course, before I understood the corporate cleverness of positioning a gift shop between the entrance and the dining area.) I can still recall the down-home menu, the tableside peg games, and the yummy meals – from full country-style breakfasts to dinner plates that included entrées like gravy-drenched roast beef or hickory-smoked ham; sides like fried apples, turnip greens, dumplins, and breaded okra; plus a dish of homemade buttermilk biscuits or corn muffins. True Southern cuisine at its finest!

But here’s the thing. Nostalgia can be misleading. The same billboards that elicit all these wonderful memories of vacations with Mom have also managed to lure Dan and me from the highway on several occasions – only to be disappointed each time by cold food and slow service. The porch, with its rocking chairs and checkerboards, is still just as inviting as ever. The country store is still brimming with the same pecan logs, ginger snaps, candles, kitchenware, and classic dolls and games that tantalized me as a child. The country-style décor still comforts me as it always has, but the food is less than appetizing these days.

No matter which Cracker Barrel we’ve tried in recent years, the experience is always the same. And yet the chain keeps expanding – despite the fact that we’re not the only ones who have lost their initial attraction for the place. Even my mom – who tends to be less critical than Dan and me – refuses to eat at the Cracker Barrel in Baton Rouge, where she lives. She, too, has been burned by too many unpleasant meals. So, it begs the question – why does Cracker Barrel continue to thrive? Do other diners simply have lower standards, or do many of us crave a place that feels like home?

Of course, Cracker Barrel isn’t the only thing that didn’t weather the storm of adulthood. Vienna sausages aren’t as tasty as when I used to swipe them from my grandfather’s pantry, and after raving about the Lonesome Dove television series for years, I finally convinced my husband to sit down and watch it with me – only to realize that it’s just not as good without commercials. Ah, the folly of youth. Sometimes, I miss the naiveté of those days. Don’t you?