Hancock (MD) - Serendipity and Identity

I'm quite enjoying the new GPS navigation unit that I purchased specifically for this trip (it's a Garmin nuvi 265WT for those keeping score at home). One unexpected benefit is that even though I've driven up I-270 umpteen times for a client in Gaithersburg (MD), the nav unit suggested a route with roads I'd never driven before. If this gadget can help me look at places that I think I know already with a fresh eye, in addition to guiding me through unfamiliar territory, it and I are going to be great friends.

Dinner last night was at Cracker Barrel, one of my mainstays that I should avoid during the rest of this trip so I can try new things. Though I took a good, long look at the breakfast-any-time menu, I ordered their roast beef platter, which I'd never had there before. While my expectations were admittedly low, the roast beef was fantastic. Not just because it was fork-tender as advertised, but because every bite was full of wonderful, unctuous gelatin. Tough cuts of meat that are full of connective tissue can be rendered tender and delicious by the slow application of low heat, which turns collagen into gelatin. High heat will not accomplish this, thus the difference between true barbecuing and mere grilling. That savory, slippery quality unique to meat that has gone through this process (e.g. braised short ribs) really spins my top. The fried okra on the side didn't hurt, either.

As always, dining at Cracker Barrel raised an interesting question on the concept of identity for me. I feel very pleasantly nostalgic when I visit CB, with the ancient farm implements and old-school advertisements on the walls. But as a second-generation immigrant, those items are not technically part of my history; it's difficult to conceive of any of my forebears recognizing those cultural markers in their time, and they certainly would not have thought of those items as theirs. Merriam-Webster defines nostalgia as either homesickness or a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to some past period or irrecoverable condition. Can one be nostalgic for something to which one does not have any personal connection? Despite the dictionary's definition, I say yes. Regardless of how the feeling came to be -- advertising, other cultural reinforcement, etc. -- a feeling is a truth in and of itself. Even if a feeling has no basis in reality, that doesn't mean that it isn't as real or as powerful as a feeling that does have a basis in reality. So, I will no longer question my enjoyment of Cracker Barrel's canny exploitation of our mass penchant for nostalgia, and simply enjoy the rocking chair gauntlet that fronts each store. BTW, the tags on the chairs say "Take a break, or take me home!".



Miles driven: 100
Moon Pies consumed: 1