In the wake of the current sociological, dare I say even spiritual, upset -- the untimely death of Anna Nicole, Britney's courageous venture into ascetic chic, Pete Doherty's disturbing gift to a penguin -- our world, even here in the most static town in New England, begs for something staying, something reliable, something open twenty-four hours.
For this term's last installment of The Dish, I said I would pay a final tribute to the winter season. I envisioned a snug dining room reeking of that cozy, yet eclectic atmosphere the Upper Valley does so well. I would sing the praises of slow-cooked chowders and New England wintry classics. I lied.
The unruly mess in the middle of the Green serves as the most glaring reminder of the present state of the term; it's rapidly and even thankfully coming to a close. With finals just around the corner, who has time for dinner with friends, much less a jaunt out of town?
Thankfully, amidst the frenzy of finals, our very own Main Street can provide much-needed relief. In no way am I alluding to a welcome Murphy's or Molly's respite from the DDS drudgery. This week's column is devoted to sustenance delivered during a time of social and academic Darwinian survival.
I am, of course, referring to Foodstop. While other Hanover institutions close their doors, this blight on the town's tradition of local entrepreneurship remains stolidly still open for business. In fact, it never closes. Foodstop, unfazed by the regular work cycle, or even those godawfully grim and silent early morning hours, keeps pace with you. In the 1902 Room. Any day or night of the week.
For this feat, when I am simultaneously cursing my own work ethic and the kid snoring away his "power nap" on a library couch, I am eternally grateful. Thus, in keeping with the spirit of these next few weeks, The Dish salutes Foodstop.
This steadfast establishment claims to offer "the best sandwiches in town," and frankly, at the hour in which Foodstop's ever-ready fare seems tempting, to contest their superiority would be futile. My vegetarian sandwich unwrapped to be unforgivably soggy, but otherwise, the dense combination of fresh, yes actually fresh, vegetables and cheese liberally smeared with a savory honey mustard was on the whole not bad.
Don't stop short with their deli! Foodstop's selection is surprisingly diverse. The refrigerated section offers a wide range of Asian eats from seaweed salad to sushi to egg rolls and dumplings. Although raw fish and a gas station food mart are an unlikely paring, Foodstop buys its sushi from a store in Lebanon and has passed inspection with a clean bill of health -- and it shows! The sesame seasoning stood out quite pleasingly in the thick udon noodle salad I tried. The egg rolls are also a favorite of one of the employees.
Still have room for more? Foodstop prepares a real feast of whole chicken and meatloaf dinners with a variety of accompanying sides. The fried chicken dinner had an unfortunately small portion of actual meat, but the accompanying sides, garlic mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese were sinfully creamy and in fact, pretty good.
Check Please! New York may have banned trans-fats but in the Granite State you're free to live and die chock full of 'em. Foodstop will satiate those late, late-night cravings around the clock with a surprisingly well stocked shop of snacks, goodies, and yes, outright meals. See you in the 1902.
