Why Cindy and I Are Addicted to "Crack"-er Barrel

By Jayne and Cindy    

 I got two apps the first day that I got an iPhone:  one was called “Restroom Finder” (enough said) and the other was an app. to locate the nearest Cracker Barrel restaurant from any point in the Continental United States.  One of the many things that bonds Cindy and I is our shared love of Cracker Barrel.  Every trip to visit our daughter in Rhode Island—both going there and driving home--must be carefully orchestrated around a trip to Cracker Barrel,  My  daughters who are vegan refuse to eat there because “even the vegetables are loaded with butter.”  To which I reply, “But that is what I love about about Cracker Barrel!”  I must admit to still having a wee bit of resentment that these children of mine who refused to eat cookies made with whole wheat flour or any healthy thing that I tried to pass off on them—such as “all natural peanut butter”—are now such purists when it comes to junk food.  I mean give me a break—they devoured Little Debbie Snack cakes and sugary cereals after I gave up on trying to convert them to Adele Davis’ all natural foods back in the 70s.  I can still see their frightened eyes when I tried to whip up some of her famous “protein shakes”—this from my kids who now live on kale smoothies. But I digress.  

     What is it about Cracker Barrel that is so addictive?  As my oldest pointed out—it isn’t called “Crack”-er Barrel for nothing.  First there is that lovely long front porch with the rocking chairs that reminds us of our grandparents’ front porch.  Then the rooms with all the old pictures on the walls to really immerse us in nostalgia.  The smell of baking biscuits and frying bacon is tantalizing, and my mouth is watering before I even open the menu.  They serve both hot biscuits and corn muffins with every meal—and grits.  Now I don’t even like grits, but I love the idea of Southern Comfort Food:  hash brown potato casserole loaded with cheese, sausage gravy, green beans simmered with ham hocks, rashers of thick crispy bacon, country fried steak, southern fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, and hot baked apples. How can we be expected to resist such temptations?  Not to mention the pies and dumplings.  Nothing on the menu is probably under 2000 calories—but hey, who is counting calories at Crack-er Barrel?  Check your Weight Watchers food calculator at the door!

     To pay your bill you have to battle your way past old fashioned metal cans of potato chips, root beer, candy of all kinds, toys, games, clothes, music and kitchy gifts for any occasion.  It must be a nightmare for parents/grandparents trying to get young kids out the door.  They must blindfold them or spend a hundred bucks on treats just to lure  them back into the car.  I must say that I am grateful to not have discovered Cracker Barrel until midlife.  If I ever am blessed with grandchildren, I may have to go into rehab from “Crack”-er Barrel  before I take them on any family vacations to the beach.

     So back to the question I posed earlier, ”Why are Cindy and I and millions of other people addicted to Cracker Barrel?”  According to Dr. David Kesler, former Surgeon General of the United States and author of the book called The End of Overeating, researchers have found that there is a sweet spot in which just the right proportions of sugar, salt and fat make us addicted to certain foods causing us to engage in what he calls “hyper overeating.”  Every fast food restaurant in the world knows this.   I also know this intellectually.  I read the entire book—several times in fact.  And yet like one of Dr. Kesler’s  lab rats, thanks to my Cracker Barrel app on my phone, I am drawn to the nearest restaurant like a lemming.  So it is not just the physical addiction to the food.  Let’s face it—after six hours on Interstate 80 in the heat in single-lane construction for 100 miles through the entire state of New Jersey and one too many shouting matches over the directions with my dear hubby—I may yet kill any highway worker who tries to block off Exit 30 on I-80.  I just want—dare I say need?-- to fall into the soft embrace of a place that reminds me of my childhood—that table laden with rich food that spells L-0-V-E.  I know,  I know, I know that I know that it is NOT HEALTHY FOR ME.  I confess that I am a woman of weak will.  I cannot fight this temptation.  I guess I need to google up 12-Step Programs for “Crack”-er Barrel ASAP.  

     I’m with Jayne on this. For me, walking into a Cracker Barrel is like slipping into another dimension - one that is part memory, part fantasy, and all irresistible. From the rockers and checkerboards on the front porch, through the doors and into the cheerfully crowded general store, I feel as though I’m stepping back in time to a road trip with my family, when my little brother and I would beg my Dad to stop at quaint general stores so we could spend our allowance on souvenirs. Nothing bad could happen here.

     There are honest, earnest, All-American goods displayed with no sense of irony. Around holidays there is clothing that elsewhere might be laughed at as “Ugly Christmas Sweaters.” But here - along with the baby gear, stuffed animals, mugs and other kitchen gear - they seem a sweet and straightforward way of offering you holiday cheer.  It makes me feel happy.

     As Jayne mentioned, the nostalgic candies and foods just undo me. I want to snatch up a roll of rainbow-colored Necco wafers and cry out to everyone in the store, “I used to eat these! In my backyard, with my best friend!” (I try to control myself.)

     The National Institutes of Health says, “Your ability to smell comes from specialized sensory cells, called olfactory sensory neurons, which are found in a small patch of tissue high inside the nose. These cells connect directly to the brain.” Boy, do they ever! My sensory cells go into overdrive before I ever make it to the dining room of a Cracker Barrel. And I can never pick out one particular scent though my overall impression is always meatloaf and mashed potatoes, maybe because that is my ultimate comfort food. 

     Cracker Barrel is a sensory comforter that settles around my shoulders and stays there, as I sit surrounded by old-time photos and ads and enjoy the meal that is always even better than I think it’s going to be - tender, succulent chicken, plump biscuits with butter, and vegetables, also drenched in butter.

     Speaking of which I share something else with Jayne: Four out of my five adult children are vegetarians, with a high concentration on organic, non GMO foods that ideally are locally sourced. (The fifth, my elder son, comes to eat brisket with me once a month.) I respect their choices and they respect mine, but I do feel bad that they can’t experience the feeling of well being that comes with walking into a Cracker Barrel and being enveloped by the smell of old-time comfort food. I don’t think there’s any kale- and quinoa-based dish that could do that. 

     So yes, Jayne and I are self-confessed Crack-er Barrel addicts. 

    And, judging by the fact that Apple put a Cracker Barrel-finding app on their iphones, we’re not alone.