Menu Excerpt: “A scrumptious portion of our homemade Chicken n’ Dumplins served up hot and fresh with your choice of any two country vegetables.”
I don’t believe it’s possible to speak this word aloud and keep a straight face. The idea that the good people at Cracker Barrel want me to pretend this is a normal word, and an acceptable way to describe anything, let alone food, leaves me feeling like I’m in some sort of dystopian medieval fairytale.
Menu Excerpt: “Our succulent pot roast roasted for up to 14 hours or until fork tender.”
If the food this word describes feels anywhere near as bad going into my mouth as the word itself feels coming out, I can’t Imagine enjoying my meal. Furthermore, I don’t believe the good people at Cracker Barrel should force their entire customer base to think the syllable “suck” over and over again at their breakfast tables across this great nation everyday. My main complaint though is that when paired with the term “fork tender” this word makes me think immediately of cannibalism for some reason and I’m a pretty normal guy.
Menu Excerpt: “A heaping helping of our world famous biscuits, eggs, and gravy served with your choice of Country or Sugar Cured Ham.”
Garbage, dried leaves, bodies. These are the sort of things that immediately come to mind when I read or, god forbid, hear the word “heap”. “Heap” is the sound someone makes when they desperately resurface for air after escaping someone who was trying to drown them. This can’t possibly be what the good people at Cracker Barrel want me thinking about while I eat their world famous biscuits, eggs, and gravy.
Menu Excerpt: “Two moist chicken breasts covered in gravy and served over a bed of rice. ”
This is the archetypical horrible adjective. This is like naming your child Hitler and claiming you don’t see what the problem is. The word moist is accepted in most scientific communities as a cardiac stressor. It puts the human body into a state of hypervigilance and unrest. We all know this, why don’t the good people at Cracker Barrel know this?
Menu Excerpt: “A thick slice of our special recipe Meatloaf made with tomatoes, onions and green peppers.”
This is the first context in which I’ve heard the word thick and felt uncomfortable. I can’t help but picture the good people at Cracker Barrel slowly whispering this word into my ear while they carve meat at my table. My main complaint though is that pairing this word with the mention of flesh of any kind, again, suggests cannibalistic undetones for some reason. It can’t just be me. Have other people said this? I’m a pretty normal guy.
Menu Excerpt: “A hearty portion of country ham served with mac and cheese and collard greens.”
I realize it’s a different word entirely but with the good people at Cracker Barrel’s signature country twang I can’t help but read this word as Collar’d. My one piece of feedback here is that the good people at Cracker Barrel, like any business really, should do everything in their power to avoid referencing the slavery that built the specific culture they’re unapologetically celebrating. I’d be less nervous if I saw the word “collar’d” anywhere but menus in the deep south. If this is an over reaction I’m sorry but collard greens are disgusting anyway and don’t seem to merit this sort of risk in the vocabulary we use to describe them.
Menu Excerpt: “A generous portion of our chicken breast fillet fried to a golden brown and then smothered in our Sawmill Gravy.”
“Smothered in a sawmill”. That’s all I took away from this particular menu item, a new fear. Scrumptious, succulent, heaping, moist, collar’d, thick, and now this. I’m sorry but at this point I can only picture the good people at Cracker Barrel’s menu being read to me by a haggard, back country cannibal with a toothy grin more as a list of “to do’s”. And I can’t stress this enough, I’m a pretty normal guy.