By David Laprad
In April, I drove past the Taco Bell on Dayton Boulevard and did a double take: The building had been reduced to rubble, as if a tornado had touched down on the lot while somehow leaving the surrounding buildings untouched.
A quick hop onto my trusted source of local news – the Chattanooga subreddit – revealed that the Taco Bell had been demolished and was destined for a rebuild.
“My summer is over before it’s even begun,” moaned one fan in the comments.
I felt his pain. Despite Taco Bell’s reputation for serving food that won’t win many endorsements from nutritionists, that restaurant was my fast-food oasis. When I needed a cheap lunch or was craving something tasty – and wanted it now – my destination was clear.
Then, one day, like the monolith in “2001: A Space Odyssey,” a stark, black rectangular building materialized in its place.
I was skeptical. Gone was the familiar adobe aesthetic, and in its place stood what looked like a shipping container. As I stared at the bleak structure, another concern crept in: What if the same corporate blandness had also infected the food?
Then came the day earlier this month when my fellow Redditors declared the revived Taco Bell open. It was time to see for myself.
You’re reviewing a Taco Bell? Dude, it’s fast food. We know what we’re getting.
Fair point. But bear with me for a moment.
For better or worse, fast food is endemic to the American way of life. It helps define the landscape of our communities and, in its own way, forge our memories. I still remember the neighborhood McDonald’s in Toledo, Ohio, and the thrill of seeing those Golden Arches in the distance as I pedaled toward them after finishing my paper route.
Same with Taco Bell. Its classic adobe architecture is familiar, which is comforting, and instantly tells you what the building is. When you see one, you know what awaits inside: crunchy taco shells barely holding together seasoned beef, crisp lettuce and shredded cheese; steaming burritos filled with beans, red sauce, onions and cheese; and ice-cold, fizzy Cokes.
This new shipping-container approach to fast-food design – adopted by Taco Bell and other chains – seems to send a different message: “We put as little money and effort into this as possible.”
That said, I get it. Let’s say you need to shutter your Taco Bell franchise. Under the old model, that building can really become only one of two things: another Tex-Mex restaurant or a State Farm office. (I swear, State Farm reps will set up shop in anything.)
Build something generic, though, and you can strip the branding off overnight and sell the place to pretty much anyone for pretty much anything.
Still, as I sneered at the new structure, convinced it had been designed to appeal to Gen Z, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was becoming the proverbial old man shouting at clouds.
So, yes, I get it. Times change, architecture changes and, apparently, Taco Bells change, too. But none of that eased my concerns about the food.
Then I’ll repeat what I said earlier: It’s fast food. We know what we’re getting.
But do you?
To get my Taco Bell fix while the Dayton Boulevard location was closed this summer, I went to the South Broad Street location, which any Chattanooga Redditor will know has an inexplicable omnipresence in local discussions: If a conversation develops on the subreddit, someone will find a way to squeeze in a South Broad Street Taco Bell reference.
For example, when a couple recently asked for help finding social events for their 1-year-old, they closed with this: “We were hoping the Broad Street Taco Bell had a baby’s-first-taco-making class, but unfortunately, they do not.”
Anyway, during my visits there, I gradually became aware that Taco Bell was stripping its menu of many of the items I enjoyed, presumably in an effort to streamline food prep. Gone were the hearty Cantina Chicken Quesadilla, the scrumptious Spicy Potato Soft Taco and the soul-satisfying Caramel Apple Empanada.
The chain replaced its Cantina Chicken Quesadilla with a gooey mess called the “Cantina Chicken Rolled Quesadilla.” Pardon me, but quesadillas are folded, not rolled, and they’re not left open on both ends. Imagine eating a bean burrito that wasn’t folded on one end. Seriously, who thought this was a good idea?
I began to suspect the same corporate thinking behind the new building had made its way into the kitchen: Let’s make the food even faster and even cheaper.
So, yeah, I was ready to grouse.
Then David Carroll, Channel 3 news anchor and Taco Bell frequent flyer, offered a little perspective. In an enthusiastic Facebook review of the revamped restaurant, he summed up his feelings during an exchange we had in the comments: “Give me a Crunchwrap Supreme and a soft taco, and they can paint the exterior any way they want to.”
And he’s right.
The true pleasure of Taco Bell is still there – in its classic menu items, its endless rearrangements of a handful of essential ingredients and that consistent, craveable flavor from one location to the next.
So, what’s new inside Red Bank’s Taco Bell?
Quite a bit, as it turns out. And I have to admit – I like it.
Front and center when you walk in is an array of five touch-screen kiosks. That should be enough to keep experienced touch screen customers from getting stuck behind a newbie trying to navigate the slightly less-than-user-friendly ordering system.
Even better, there’s a traditional order counter to the right, complete with a cash register and a smiling cashier – but, oddly, no menu board behind the counter. If you want to order the old-fashioned way, you’d better know what you want.
I’m just glad I can walk up and tell another human being my order. What a relief.
There’s also a digital screen showing whose order is being prepared and whose is ready. It’s a nice addition, and it’s visible from the entire dining area, which has been reduced to a rectangular space that runs along the right side of the building. It has an almost sterile look, with a wall of glass allowing natural light to flood the faux-wood tables and purple chairs.
I didn’t hate it. In fact, I was surprised by how much I liked the new look. It’s fresh, sleek, and the color scheme works – inside and out. The deep purple signage against the black exterior is especially pleasing to the eye.
I can only imagine the hours a marketing team the size of a football squad spent arriving at precisely the right combination of colors, but I’ll give them this: They nailed it.
And as much as I thought it would pain me to admit this, Taco Bell has done a pretty good job retooling its menu, too. I still miss my old favorites, but I’ve found some new craveables to take their place, including the absolutely delicious Avocado Ranch Crispy Chicken Burrito. It features crispy, tortilla chip-crusted white-meat chicken, shredded cheddar, pico de gallo, lettuce, purple cabbage and creamy avocado ranch sauce wrapped in a warm flour tortilla.
It is, as they say, the chef’s kiss.
Cool. I’ll check the place out next time I’m in Red Bank. And who knows? Maybe the South Broad Street Taco Bell will get its own makeover, giving rise to a new generation of memes.
Who knows indeed? Maybe Taco Bell will even bring back my beloved Spicy Potato Soft Taco from time to time, à la McDonald’s and the McRib. In his final reply on Facebook, Carroll said he’ll go to bat for me, as he probably owns stock in the company by now.
Until then, give me an Avocado Ranch Crispy Chicken Burrito, and I’ll keep my complaints to a minimum.