Review of The Oasis

The neon cactus sign suspended above the Oasis is in clear disrepair. You can imagine that in the past it used to glow hot, alien electric a force strong enough to draw all manner of passers by right off the road and through the unassuming door and into a world of beer, burgers, friends, and family. Despite the disrepair evident all around The Oasis restaurant on University Boulevard outside Tuscaloosa, the restaurant still has an undeniable appeal for the local population. At lunch time, it is customary to double park fellow diners in order to find a place between the vehicles and the car gurgling, rain-filled, car swallowing potholes in the gravel parking lot. The same degree of wear is obvious on the dining room tables which bear the indelible etchings of past customers. The whole scene exudes a slow, timeless, but calming pace that is the epitome of the charm and frustration of living in the South. If you are interested in having a fast burger and to get on your way, McDonald’s just up the street is your ticket. It is not that the food at The Oasis takes forever to come out to you. Quite the contrary, the service is sharp and the food comes out quickly (although the lone waitress provides only one set of eyes, hands, and ears to be sensitive to your wants and needs). While The Oasis promises a lot in terms of food, the best burger in this town…of Cottondale, it does not rush you or your order just to please the endlessly ticking clock that defines so many peoples’ lives. It is in this respect that The Oasis is rich, not just in its food, but in its overall experience. So often, even when we sit down to fancy meals, we work through our food quickly and miss the many other enjoyable parts of the dining experience. The scenery of The Oasis is not particularly interesting, but from the discolored and antiquated box television set in one corner, to the ubiquitous college town beer signs that hang on the walls, to the Mardi Gras memorabilia by the cash register, The Oasis is memorable because you feel free to talk, relax, and take time and savor the complete meal experience.

It isn’t as if the South invented the notion of taking your time with your food and savoring not only the tastes but also the company and ambiance of the meal. After satisfying his most basic needs, man searched for ways to increase his safety and his satisfaction. Dining together and taking time to enjoy eating was a way to satisfy both. But while so many Americans have continued to “evolve” into calculated, efficient drive-thru diners, who have shortened their eating experiences, small restaurants like The Oasis have unavoidably had to eschew that approach because they cannot afford to do business in that manner. This was obvious when, twenty minutes after entering the restaurant with twelve of my classmates, the waitress informed us that we should start ordering in groups because the grill could not hold all of our food at the same time. Imagine if McDonald’s had to sit customers down and make them wait because it did not have enough grill or fry space to match their demand. The fast food system is predicated on producing foods that are so simple and fast that such a scenario will never develop. The waitress wasn’t ashamed to inform us that some of us would have to wait longer for our food. Most of us were so wrapped up in conversations at the table that the exposed “shortcoming” of The Oasis fell on deaf ears.

While waiting for food at The Oasis, it is hard to resist the allure of the jukebox that juts out of the corner of the room, the neon elephant in the room, demanding that attention (and dollars) be offered to it. The jukebox is nostalgic not only because it hearkens back to a style of music and look that would fit in better next to Fonz in Happy Days than in your average 21st-century burger joint, but also because it requires a patience and cooperation that do not mesh with our individualistic, I’ll-just-listen-to-my-ipod thank you very much lifestyle. While cooperation at the jukebox seems to always be encouraged by the staff and locals, when a person picks a song you are bound to show a little RESPECT (just a little bit) and appreciate their choice of music. Fairness is maintained because everyone eventually gets a turn to pick a song and play DJ. While listening to some classic songs from bygone years, I couldn’t help but wonder if the customers at McDonald’s could ever agree on songs to listen to? Do they even play music in fast food restaurants for fear of irritating the customers?

The Oasis burger had the appropriate balance of grease, meat, and cheese that puts a dripping smile on your face when you bite into it. I paired my double cheeseburger with a side of onion rings. The rings had a dark, caramelized color to them that guaranteed that the inside would be well cooked. The fry dough was not bound to the onion but broke away with its own distinct textural crunch and did not dissolve in my hand. The meal, like many greasy but carefully prepared burgers, weighed heavily on my cholesterol but lightened my soul. It was a happy meal in the most appropriate sense of the word. Between conversations with my classmates and the locals who were enjoying their first bite (and drink, or two) of the afternoon, and the copious amounts of good fried food at our table, I could not wipe the dopy grin off of my face. For me, eating a good meal is about transcending the quality of the food in front of you. It is about sharing something greater than the sum of the parts with those around you. To that end, the Oasis delivers, and all for the price of a “happy meal” at one of those lifeless, sterilized burger places. The Oasis offers a lot and only asks one thing in return. Take a seat and don’t be in a rush, the grill might already be full, music might already be playing, but if you hang out for awhile, (and oh how the time flies) you will not be disappointed.