Buffet Dining: It’s What Makes Out Town Tick
Some regard “all you can eat” as an invitation. Others see it as a dare.
But no matter what your perspective, this feeding format is a quintessentially Spokane thing. At least, judging from remarks one hears, that’s what more than a few people around here seem to think.
That’s why on Sunday morning, I paid $6.37 and walked my appetite into the Old Country Buffet on North Division, right next to Ross Dress For Less. This was an anthropological journey deep into the heart of what makes Spokane tick. And it seemed like a good place to get breakfast.
It’s a big smoke-free room filled with cheery lighting and easy listening music. People were dressed in church clothes. And tank tops.
Instruction cards explained the drill. “For your convenience, please use a clean plate for each trip.”
A few people making initial forays up to the buffet islands acted as if they were scouts. They inventoried the offerings - scrambled eggs, potatoes, bacon, ham, hash, sausage, waffles, French toast, salads, cobblers and more. Then they returned to report their findings.
Others all but dove in. One young woman in a Dallas Cowboys shirt seemed to have tiny portions of two dozen different items neatly arranged on her plate. A less tidy guy next to her looked like he was trying to reconstruct a fifth-grade science fair volcano. And another feeder had food stacked so high that you almost had to wonder if she had consulted a structural engineer about achieving maximum load without the heartbreak of run-together.
Strangers didn’t critique one another’s selections as they scooped and spooned food onto their plates. But back at the tables, companions felt free. “You used that red sauce?” said one twentysomething man to a twentysomething woman. “You’re insane.”
Spokane has no monopoly on buffet restaurants, of course. But Sunday morning, it was easy to develop a theory about why they could be regarded as symbolic of this area’s cultural values.
It isn’t really about gluttony, culinary blandness or even stretching a dollar. It’s about families.
Leading a group up to the buffet islands, a black-haired man in a Winnie the Pooh shirt turned and said something in a Southeast Asian language. His little daughter called back, “Wait for me, daddy.”
A woman at a nearby table saw this and smiled. Then she realized she had been sitting and talking to her two daughters and her grandchildren for almost half an hour without budging. “Well,” she announced, “I’m going to go get some food.”
, DataTimes MEMO: Being There is a weekly feature that looks at gatherings in the Inland Northwest.