I went to Tonganoxie because it was there. And then I walked into a joint called the Flashback Cafe and ordered the chicken fried steak. I mean, why wouldn’t I?
Now, chicken fried steak is nothing more – or less - than a reasonably tough cut of meat – definitely not chicken - that has been pounded sufficiently to make it reasonably tender and then breaded, fried and smothered with a generous helping of peppery white gravy. You will find variations on the theme – you might want the mashed potatoes to be a little lumpy and I can generally take or leave the green beans - but the truth is the truth. Chicken fried steak is chicken fried steak.
I just can’t say when I had my first chicken fried steak, but I do remember my first real job. It was laying carpet with Virgil and Lester. I was in high school and I was just good enough to do what needed to be done. I could hold up my end of a roll of carpet. I could haul the filthy old horsehair padding out to the van and bring back boxes of tack strip – or what ever. I could staple down new, chemical-fresh carpet pad or bring the carpet stretcher to where it was needed. I was the third hand. And at the end of the day, there it was - a brand spankin-new freshly carpeted room. It was beautiful. Not filet mignon – chicken fried. It was good. Now I didn’t realize it at the time, but in a way, that might have been the best job I would ever have. But this story isn’t about carpet laying, it’s about chicken fried steak.
The thing is, when we went out of town do a job, lunch was always on the company. And when we had a job near Durham, Kansas – and it was always near Durham, Kansas because there just wasn’t that much in Durham, Kansas – except for this one particular cafĂ©. I always had the chicken fried steak. Every time. Mashed potatoes, green beans, a dinner roll. And homemade pie. We always had pie. Virgil and Lester were great guys. They paid me for doing something that was satisfying, they never made a big deal out of it when I messed up – and they bought me lunch.
So I believe.
That’s my story. There’s a whole lot of things I don’t believe in anymore, but you still gotta believe in something. So if you ever see me in Tonganoxie at the Flashback Cafe and it looks like I’m praying with a knife and fork in my hands, it’s the chicken fried steak.