Restaurant Review | Fast ‘n’ Easy Gas & Guzzle Chicken Counter

** (Very Good)

Not All Chickens Go to Heaven



reviewed by Quintus Lutius Cincinattus Tait

In Lowndesboro, I have discovered the secret to chicken salvation. If chickens are bad, they go to a fast food fried chicken restaurant, but if they spend their six weeks living a good, wholesome life, they can only wish to spend an eternity chopped to pieces, breaded, fried, and basking in the glow of the heat lamps at the Fast ‘n’ Easy Gas & Guzzle Chicken Counter. There they lounge, clad in new crispy, golden skins, alongside tater logs, corn dogs, fish sticks, and okra, dripping grease onto fluffy clouds of white paper towels. Meanwhile, eager customers squint through the grease-spattered Pearly Gates, waiting to draw them back to the realm of earthly delights.

While some of the food offerings reference the divine, the story behind the Fast ‘n’ Easy Gas & Guzzle chicken counter belongs far more in the earthly realm. Last year, residents of Lowndesboro drew a collective gasp of devastation when the rumor that Chuckles Fried Chicken had dropped the Fast ‘n’ Easy Gas & Guzzle from their franchise list circulated far and wide. Even more shocking was the fried chicken beak incident. Owner Wayne Pyles steadfastly refused to answer questions about it, a strategy that allowed him to quickly reopen his hot food counter without a noticeable fall-off in patronage. Pyles stoicism is a food lovers gain, since shedding the burdensome yoke of the Chuckles Fried Chicken Franchise Fryer Standards Handbook has allowed the women behind Pyles’ counter, longtime co-workers Miss Dottie and Miss Odella, to expand into the unchartered reaches of the deep fryer pool.

To truly take advantage of all the F ‘n’ E, as it has been dubbed by locals in the know, it’s necessary to sample their entire rotating daily menu. Miss Dottie and Miss Odella show up at 4:30 in the morning to start working hand-rolling biscuits. Alone, the biscuits are serviceably fluffy and buttery, and the biscuit combinations are hit or miss. The pieces of fried bologna are a salty revelation, especially when adorned with grape jelly squeezed fresh from a plastic pouch. Less successful are the biscuits filled with small split hot dogs regular customers refer to as “red hots”, which taste exactly as expected, like unidentifiable fatty pork parts blended with salt and nitrates and crammed into a casing. The sausage gravy is delicious at 5 AM, serviceable by 6:00, but by 7:00 after two hours of warming over a can of sterno, it is gummy, flavorless mess.

After 10 AM, the lunch menu makes it way out of the fryer, and the pieces of chicken ascended from the deep fryer basket towards the divine. Not everything at the counter is a hit. The onion rings are clearly purchased pre-made, as are the taquitos. The corn dogs are merely a reworking of the unappealing breakfast red hots, this time shrouded in greasy cornbread, which does not make for an improvement. The fried okra was excessively slimy, even for okra, and somehow still wrapped in a dried out cornmeal skin.

But the chicken, oh, the chicken. On three separate occasions, I sampled drumsticks, breasts, and a liver and gizzards sampler. For the most part, the skins were crispy and flavorful, and the meat fell apart in my mouth. On the right day, this is the Black Belt ambrosia, the food of the rural gods. The exception to this is the fried chicken livers, which are metallic and chewy, making them best left as catfish bait. When accompanied with a perfectly spiced tater log, a new religion was born. All the rest of you can get your visions of heaven at Sunday services, but I’ll take mine at the Fast ‘n’ Easy.

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Intersection of US 80 and AL Highway 97, Lowndesboro

ATMOSPHERE: A convenience store

SOUND LEVEL: Background radio varies by cashier shift from Party Blues to right-wing talk; cash register and video poker noise sometimes gets loud

RECOMMENDED DISHES: Gizzards, breasts, drumsticks, tater logs

WINE LIST: A series of fortified wines and chilled white zinfandels are available for purchase in the refrigerator case in the back. The one to the left…no, your other left.

PRICE RANGE: $.59 to $3.95

HOURS: 5 AM – 2PM, but arrive at the beginning of shifts when food has spent minimal time under the heat lamps

RESERVATIONS: Not accepted. Anyone hoping for a seat will be disappointed. On all visits to the restaurant at practically all hours of the day all booths were taken up by the same crowd of tobacco chewing old men in overalls and trucker hats

CREDIT CARDS: All forms of payment accepted (with the exception of checks written by Dwight Barker, Cindy Price, and Mickey Taylor).

WHEELCHAIR ACCESS: Accessible


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Christ Temple Suffers a Salvation Near Miss at Altar Call

BRUNDIDGE—Eternal Time stood still last Sunday at the Christ Temple Church in downtown Brundidge. It was a Sunday that the faithful will not soon forget. Jerry Martin made his first appearance inside the church since the funeral for his father, who passed in 1999. According to a witness for Christ, Martin’s appearance at the 11 o’clock service raised the congregation’s hope for a miracle salvation, and became the biggest event since prayers were said for the return of the collection plate stolen after last January’s New Year’s tithing. (It was found the following week by a highway department worker in a ditch about a mile from the church.) According to reports from several of the members of the congregation, Martin seemed poised to enter the aisle at the altar call as Preacher Dale pulled out all stops, moving expertly from invoking the Sweet Name of Jesus to painting the most glaringly vivid visuals of Hell anyone at Christ Temple had ever before seen. One member recalled how everyone in the church kept staring at Jerry, who became the center of attention as the tearful eyes of both saved and un-saved fixated on him while “Just as I Am” was played for the umpteenth time.


Tension in the flock was highest when Martin seemed to lean a little toward the center isle during the end of the third verse; causing Preacher Dale glanced over at the piano and nod for another round. This back and forth went on for about ten or fifteen minutes before a defeated Preacher Dale and an emotionally drained congregation finally gave up at around noon-thirty. Martin, head down and with the faintest wisp of a smile, never budged from the pew except to exit quickly by the side door at the front of the church after the service. “It was kind of quiet after Brother Dale let us go and we all walked outside. My dad gone stomach was starting to growl I was so hungry” said long time member Duncan (“Trip”) Griffith who summed up everyone’s feelings. Griffith, visibly upset at the scene in the church added, “Jerry knows good and well that the NASCAR race started at noon. He thinks it’s funny; that SOB did this just make us all late to get home. He’d better not bring his gimpy behind up here to this church no more. We’ll just send him across the street and let the Methodists have him! Just walk down and get saved for Christ’s sake!”—Clement P. Tate


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Personals Page

Compiled by Miss Virginia "Tootsie" McAlpine

The PawPaw Patch in Eutaw will be hosting a Monday afternoon training course in using their dining room defibrillator. Attendance is mandatory for employees and all regular customers are encouraged to attend. Also, we are now hiring experienced fry cooks. Apply in person.

Bobby Gee, Sr. has three mud tires, a Bronco passenger seat (beige), and a set of wipers for an ’87 El Camino for sale at his place in Sprott. Please call Bobby when you get to the first locked gate.

Yard sale Saturday, 7 a.m. to noon. Greene Street, Marion (not Greene Street, Greensboro, Eutaw, or Linden). Camping gear, beer-making kit, talking bass plaque, 12gauge Remington shotgun, antique 22 cal. rifle, TailGator towing system custom fit for a late model GMC Tahoe, vintage UA cap collection, partially used case of Beano, busted Penn reel, 15 years’ back issues of select men’s magazines, 1964 penny collection, framed Bear Bryant print, cammo waders, 2-stroke Johnson outboard (needs work), and much more! Call Genie Foster for more info.

Mrs. Dickie Bay will begin giving harpsichord lessons at her home on Main Street. All interested should stop by between 4 and 5 on Thursday afternoon for a brief interview.

The flowers on the altar at First Baptist for each Sunday in October will be placed by Keith Foster in honor of his wedding anniversary with his wife, Genie.

Mike and Christie Vickers just returned from a 3 day cruise from Mobile to the Cancun. Mr. Vickers reports that the burritos down there can’t beat the ones at our own Los Pampas!

Newell Dale would like to report a missing black sharpei dog. Answers to the name “Blayne.” Reward!

New Canaan AME Church is having a fish fry this Saturday to raise money for a new drum set and sound system. $8.00 plate includes two fillets, baked beans, greens, and a roll.

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New Residents at White Hall Defy Interpretation

EUTAW—Long-time residents of Eutaw are abuzz about the family lately seen lounging around the grounds of White Hall, ancestral home of Mrs. Margaret Irwin. This reporter caught up with Mrs. Irwin and her Garden Club as they lunched at the Ceinture Noire restaurant last Tuesday. When asked about her new tenants, Mrs. Irwin explained that they are “a family of perfectly respectable hippies who have taken up residence on the back lawn.” At first, she was a little apprehensive about their unfamiliar dress and manner of speech. Leaning across her chicken salad plate to be heard, Mrs. Bea Moore interjected, “These hippies give themselves the most curious names that I just can’t remember.”

Said Mrs. Irwin, “They don’t do much, and spend most of their time on the kitchen porch. But they do have the nicest watermelon garden. And they just eat them up as soon as they are ripe. I guess I could let them live in the big house, but I knew they would be more comfortable back in the old kitchen. You know at first I thought they had two little girls with long blonde hair, but it turns out one of them is a boy. They call him Little Moon or something. He is so cute, but you know he’ll grow up to be a problem soon enough. Now I wouldn’t mind keeping the girl, oh, what is her name, River Lotus or something. I wouldn't mind keeping her around to help me in the house some. However, the other day I am pretty sure I recognized one of my chandelier crystals on the mamma’s rope necklace.”

Last Sunday morning at the First Baptist Church, during the third call to altar and the sixth chorus of “Just As I Am,” several faithful say that they heard what sounded like distant bongo music. “I went over to investigate after the service,” said Brother Bobby Smith, associate pastor. “I followed the sound to the grounds of White Hall and saw what looked like a reenactment of the book of Job—-they were all half naked and swaying, kinda dirty, with flowers and sackcloth, and the smell of burning rope was heavy in the air. I just let them be, because they must have their own sort of religion. They might be really good practice for our youth ministry before their mission trip to Costa Rica this summer.”

When asked about the new tenants, Willie Jackson, the Irwin family gardener said, “They ain’t fit to live at White Hall. My people been keeping up this place for generations, and now times is hard and Mrs. Irwin has got to take in the likes of those. I feel sorry for the children of those no-count hippies. Some folks got no shame at all.”—Miss Virginia "Tootsie" McAlpine, with W. G. Marion

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Piggly Wiggly Expands Selection of Organic and Local Foods

THOMASTON, AL—In the past few weeks, customers at Black Belt Piggly Wiggly stores may have noticed some changes on the shelves. At the urgent behest of a few customers from California and New York, local Piggly Wiggly stores have expanded their offerings to include locally grown, gourmet, and organic items. "We expanded our inventory in response to many requests from missionary home builders and folk art dealers who claimed that our store's selection was unhealthy and part of what was holding everyone in this area down. I'm not sure what that means, but we did expand our selection to take advantage of local producers. We had to get rid of one of the aisles of fried pies, honeybuns and Faygos to stock this stuff, but we want all of our regular customers to know that we will still have two aisles of those products to choose from," says night manager Dale Mailer. "Thanks to our recent improvements we are excited to announce that we now have three bins of fresh produce. That quadruples our previous offering."



In these new produce bins, adventurous customers will find organically grown poke salad greens and crabapples alongside locally-picked mushrooms. Even though the fried pie and aisle is reduced in size, discerning shoppers will spot a few new flavor offerings, including ripe persimmons and sweet potato. Among the tasty new offerings from Faygo are scuppernong and sorghum. There are some changes at the meat counter as well. In an attempt to reduce carbon footprints, Piggly Wiggly butchers have started to exploit local sources, offering flavorful free range chicken feet from heirloom Black Belt breeds, wild-caught snapping turtle fillets, and richly-textured wild turkey neckbones. On a recent Thursday, Californian Bruce commented on the new selection, "Um, yeah, it's local, but I wanted them to get stuff like Trader Joe's. I still don't really know what any of this stuff or how to cook pecan-fed wild boar tails."

Meanwhile, Mailer attempted to hand out samples of catfish roe on Captain’s Wafers. Reports Mailer, “Well, I don’t know how well this is going to work. The Yankee art dealers keep telling me catfish isn’t kosher and those west coast builders or whatever keep saying catfish isn’t vegan. Me, I say if it's good enough for Sunday dinner, it's kosher enough. And everybody knows that catfish ain't vegan. They'll eat anything you grind up small enough."

Others were more optimistic. New York folk art scout Ingrid Stein recently raved over the local bounty, “These quaint new selections are beautiful expressions of the rustic cuisine of authentic South! I could sell these packages of chicken feet in a Manhattan gallery tomorrow!”

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