Here’s the thing: you can go for the Raise the Roost chicken and biscuits, or a hot nacho cheese and beef taquito right off the rolling rack at the brand spankin’ new 7-11 at 3301 Broad Street if you’re in a hurry and that’s your style. You can even slide on over to the tiny condiment bar and spice up your meal with salsa, onions, pickled jalapenos, and soft cheese. No one would judge you, and you probably won’t be disappointed, as long as you accept that, as my brother likes to say, “It is what it is.” Which, if you think about it, is the truest statement you can utter, about absolutely anything, unless you happen to be a physicist, in which case you know that nothing is what it is, including nothing. In fact, “7-11”—which originally designated the hours of operation—isn’t even what is. The chain is actually open 24-7.
Rest assured, the chicken is delicious: hella crispy, with a deep, glowing tan like the kind we used to get from Ban de Soleil lotion and relentless hours in the Florida sun. One chomp lets you know the crunch factor holds up handsomely in your mouth, while the meat inside is fall-apart tender and juicy. Is it greasy? Well, yeah. But you aren’t here because the place fits squarely within the parameters of your Mediterranean diet.
7-11s have matured since I was a regular in Atlanta in the 1970s. Back then, the main draw was the Slurpee: miniscule shards of ice spun together with the bubbly sweetness of Coca-Cola until the duo formed a light cloud of frozen lusciousness that disappeared in your mouth almost as soon as it arrived. One sip and you were hooked; before you knew it you were guzzling the drink through a fat plastic straw with a weird, spoon-like formation on the end of it, which resulted in a wicked ice headache that never, ever taught you a lesson.
For Slurpees we have Omar Knedliks to thank; when his soda fountain broke down in 1950, he cobbled together parts of an automobile air conditioner and built a machine capable of spinning ice and soda into the iconic frozen soda bliss. At the Broad Street 7-11, you can get a traditional Coke Slurpee, sure. But why not lean into a piña colada, cherry, peach candy lemonade, zero sugar dragon fruit, Mountain Dew, or raspberry Slurpee? If this array of flavors isn’t proof of Slurpee maturity, I don’t know what is.
But we aren’t all fans of convenience store fried chicken (although for the life of me I don’t know why not). If your tastes run to the gourmet, or if you would simply like to eat beyond the immediate 7-11 offerings of chicken and biscuits and the endless array of microwavable options but don’t want to stop at the grocery store, then may I suggest pasta puttanesca with tuna, a Mandarin orange trifle, and an aperitif of Johny Bootlegger grape malt? It’s a menu that came to me as I perused the well-appointed aisles of the 7-11 and, in the spirit of the cooking show, Chopped, set myself the task of creating two dishes using only what was available there.
My goal was to show that it’s possible to elevate 7-11 fare at home in your very own roost, and to enjoy, if not a fine dining experience, then at least a meal beyond the ken of the cleverly-named chicken counter: i.e., something to really crow about. It just takes a little thinking outside the [microwavable] box. Read on to see how I did it, and how you can, too.
For the puttanesca:
Top Ramen noodles
Vegetable oil (1 tbsp)
Fuego Takis (about 5 chips)
Campbell’s tomato soup
Snack Trio green olives (6)
Bumble Bee tuna (1 can)
Shelled pistachios (about 8)
Heat oil in skillet over medium. Crush Takis finely and add to oil, stirring until toasted. Rough chop and add olives, fry 2 minutes. Add a half can of the tomato soup and cook until sauce reduces a bit. Drain tuna and add to sauce. Salt to taste, keeping in mind the Takis and soup both add sodium; don’t overdo or you will ruin this delicate dish. Open the noodles and discard seasoning packets. Bring to a boil, add to the sauce, toss. Sprinkle with crushed pistachios.
For the trifle:
2 pints Häagen–Dazs vanilla ice cream
2 containers (7 oz. each) Mandarin oranges in light syrup
2-4 individual serving Bon Appétit pound cakes
1 container red grapes
Layer cake in bottom of small clear bowl
Drizzle with Mandarin orange syrup
Spread orange sections across cake surface
Spread layer of ice cream over oranges
Repeat above steps
Arrange grapes across top layer of trifle
Aperitif
Johny Bootlegger Sing Sing sour grape malt, neat