C
Christian
October 22, 2024
Fast Food baskets: a retrospective into dinnertime and our place in society.
When I was a young man, I once had a dream. This was an old dream, one that is all to rare in todays world of instant conversations, social media stars, and viral trends. This was a dream that could only flourish in the nostalgic, sepia-toned time of 2012. When a weary traveler would find themselves in need of the crispy fried sustenance that would give one's inebriated tastebuds a truly fantastic journey. In those days, the world seemed brighter and more full of life. The times have changed dramatically, with new inventions and new ways to hold our fried foods. Yet we all still yearn for the days come and gone, of simple plates and baskets. Maybe understanding this will allow us to show our true desires of our collective societal soul? Only god would know, if you believe in such things.My dream, as it were, was conceived in a small diner, in the panhandle of Nebraska, just off of highway 20. It was on the outskirts of a small town, one that time forgot. The people were simple and the times where hard. I entered the diner with an aching stomach and a want, nay, a primal desire, for a greasy cheeseburger and fries. I greeted the cook, a sweet and homely lady of about 50. She returned the greeting and revealed that she was also the proprietor of the eatery. She handed me the laminated menu, but insisted that she knew what was best on it. I informed her that I am partial to cheeseburgers and fries. She quickly snatched the menu and with a wink said "I gotcha honey". I knew to trust this woman, as her grease stained apron told me that she had been doing this for quite some time. Was this her dream job? Her passion? What was her muse? I dismissed this line of thought when my order had arrived.There it was: Perfection placed between two buns and flanked with crispy fries. A sesame seed bun that had already began to soak in the grease from the succulent meat, and the salty deep fried potato goodness next to it. This delicious meal of exquisite taste was not the main attraction however; nay it was only the jewel that sat atop the crown of red checkered amazement.A basket. Black, with broken cross bars, and slightly warped from the industrial dishwasher. On the inside sat a paper insert, white and red checkers. The grease had soaked into an edge. Like a fried flower, this beautiful meal sat staring at me, and I back at it. I had become narcissus, gazing into a pool at the reflection of a high cholesterol goddess. It was in that moment, when the dream came to me:All fried foods, nay, all foods eaten with hands and not utensils, should be placed in a container such as this. This basket and liner surely would bring humanity together as one consciousness, and we would know true peace. These baskets are proven to make food taste better, and once I took a bite of that burger all those years ago, I knew; I knew my dream was a righteous one. I stood up and loudly vowed to god and all the other customers and that establishment that I would make it my crusade to find these baskets and use them in my own private home, just so I could taste the nostalgic perfection of that single moment.And then I forgot about it for eight years and randomly found these on amazon and bought em.6/10 they work pretty good.
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S
Sheila Kerbein
August 05, 2025
Thin, but doing okay
I bought these for the mom summer hack of less dishes. They seem to be holding up well as none have broken. They are a bit thin, much more thin than what you would find in a restaurant. So if forced, they would likely break fairly easily.
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