I’ve long held a theory that once a country becomes sufficiently irrelevant, it becomes possible in this country to go to a resteraunt serving its national cuisine. (A corollary to this is that if NPR runs a story about a famine somewhere, you can rest assured that the hipster-friendly quarter of the nearest major city serves food from that place.)
Now that we’ve begun the long road to the bottom of the heap in earnest, it’s happening to us. What’s the national cuisine of a nation that invariably chooses the cheapest, most fattening option? Why, anything that’s served in a mediocre mid-priced eatery. Our children will live to see the day when the only manifestation abroad of the once-insuperable might of the United States will be countless TGIFs, Chilis, and, God save us, Baker’s Squares.
