Man, are we a people in a hurry! It’s not enough that we have drive-up windows at our already quick fast food joints or phone and online ordering that brings the food out to us the moment we drive into the lot. Now we need to multitask, crossing two items off the list at once by simultaneously feeding ourselves and our vehicles. Gas stations morphed first into convenience stores, then markets. Now some offer meals, of a sort, to eat in the car or on the road.

At the Speedway on Maple at Miller, you’ll have to search hard for anything non-comestible. When I stopped in last month, I noticed a few newspapers and a multitude of tobacco products, and I could pay for my gas at the counter. But when I turned away from the clerk, I was stunned at the cornucopia of processed foods. Yards and yards of wall coolers display seemingly every soda, water, tea, milk, smoothie, health, and junk beverage produced, in all their various sizes, with an emphasis on the largest. A wall of fountain drinks dispenses liquids into cups of up to fifty-two ounces. On counters sit whirling slush machines. (I pondered, without success, the difference between a “freeze” and a “refresher,” but if you want to know the ingredients and nutritional value in a bubble gum freeze, Speedway provides full disclosure on its website.) Another counter holds an array of elaborate tea and coffee machines. (Where does the coffee figure, I wondered, in a strawberry shortcake cappuccino?)

—

Nearby, a breakfast corner offers egg sandwiches, yogurt, packaged fruit cups, and a glorious assortment of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Mini hummus and pita snack packs line up with “Lunchables” and “Munchables.” Chips of the corn, potato, cheese, and mystery food genres share space with nuts and trail mix. Cookies, candies, and other sweets are tucked in everywhere. Cold deli and sub sandwiches offer greater sustenance, albeit on pale, squishy bread.

At lunch, staffers stack vertical warmers with pizzas and wrapped, precooked cheeseburgers and chicken sandwiches. Pride of place, though, belongs to the double “roller grill,” a countertop contraption where hot dogs and Polish sausage rotate in unison with egg rolls, corn dogs, and food-like products invented specifically for rotary preparation: compressed “Rollerbites” (chicken and cheese, for example) go in a hot dog bun, while “Tornados” (a vague imitation of a hard rolled taco) are eaten as is. Much of this is incredibly cheap–two cheeseburgers for $3, two Rollerbites for $2.50, a sub for $2.99.

It was lunchtime, so I opted for a Polish sausage, chips, and a can of Coke. Mesmerized by the roller grill, I also picked up a chicken and cheese Tornado and an egg roll, and retired to my truck.

After one bite of cardboard-y Tornado, I stashed away the rest for my dogs. (Really, I’ve never before tasted anything so unlike food.) The egg roll was as uninspired as other frozen-and-reheated ones, if a tad chewier from its protracted sojourn on the roller grill. Fortunately, the sausage and chips were just fine.

Over the next forty-five minutes, I studied the stream of people going in and out. I noticed landscape, painting, and plumbing contractors; white, black, and brown individuals; a grandmother; a dad with three teenage sons; and a middle-aged woman looking for the entrance to M-14. Some gassed up their vehicles; some came just to eat.

Interestingly, except for a young woman who exited tearing the paper off a microwave burrito, the customers all seemed to be carrying hot dogs or Polish sausage. Are the majority of us actually satisfied, even pleased, with those traditional fast foods? Who, then, consumes or finds joy in those Rollerbites and Tornados and Hurricane Refreshers? But since Speedway’s marketers and food scientists see fit to bless us with that infinite variety of options, I’m guessing there’s money in there somewhere.

—

In Dixboro, on Plymouth Rd., All Seasons Market has a simplified and enhanced version of the pump-and-eat model. Located in a strip mall whose parking lot surrounds a gas station, All Seasons is indeed part market, with an extensive selection of spirits and other beverages, grocery and dairy items, and a few fresh meats and vegetables. But they’ve also hired a cook who, from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. Monday through Friday, fills the cases with hot and cold lunch possibilities.

Out there, at the noon hour, it’s almost all contractors, burly guys in white coveralls and Hanes T-shirts, with a few older, well-to-do fellows in golf shirts–real estate agents, maybe, or even actual golfers. Occasionally a family wanders in, but mostly they and the ladies-who-lunch prefer MoonWinks Cafe around the bend for its green salads, slices of quiche, and fancy coffees.

All Seasons serves up inexpensive regular food, not high-octane premium: lots of protein and carbs to fill up a hungry stomach quick. Pizzas and wrapped cheeseburgers sit in warmers here too, but they’re made fresh, with fresh ingredients. Beside them may sit broccoli and chicken purses or spinach pies. The cold sandwiches and subs are more expensive than Speedway’s, but they’re stuffed full with higher-quality ingredients, and they share the case with potato and pasta salads, coleslaw, and other sides.

All Seasons even offers those wanting a traditional meal a changing selection of two to three hot entrees–beef Stroganoff or country ribs or a chili pasta bake, usually with some kind of rice and, surprisingly, a vegetable like corn and beans or sauteed yellow squash, all mix-and-match for $5.99 a pound. Maybe not fine dining, but often tasty, stick-to-the-ribs fare made from recognizable ingredients. It’s hard to eat in the car, especially while driving, but more satisfying than the multitude of choices at Speedway.