To Take Out

Fish and chips: the best of all take out

You seem so post-industrial, part of a culture so busy, so tied to the clock and the 9-5 day, that’s it’s hard to fathom your age. We stuff bags of burgers between the seats, eat tacos with one hand while we drive, unfold boxes of lo mein at the end of the day in front of the television lamenting the loss of the the days when people ate home cooked meals.

But you are nothing new. In Colonial America, vendors sold street food. There was a nation to build after all. But even the nations that were already here and built had vendors who sold tamales made of frog or gopher. We think not having time to prepare and cook a meal is new, but clearly we have never tried to make frog tamales. Much easier as take out and who wants to fuss with all those tiny bones?

Even ancient Greece, vendors lined the streets. Socrates is hungry because thinking and teaching is hard work. His entourage with him. As they approach the steaming pots of boiled fish, he asks a question and then holds his hand up to shush them as he orders his fish. The students appreciate the extra time to think of an answer, to try to beat Plato, such a teacher’s pet, and as they start to walk again, they shout out answers.

Wherever there’s a city it seems, people will sell food on its streets and other people will welcome the chance to not cook tonight. You require a certain density of population, a minimum number of streets and intersections, a prerequisite crushed relationship with time. And we are so happy to hold the food in our hands--the burger, the sandwich, the newspaper cone of fish and chips--to barely interrupt our lives with all the chopping and steaming and stirring and just eat. More time to answer the questions. More time to ask them.