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It was January. We were in the Caribbean where it was around 80 the entire time. It was snowing back home in New York, and the forecast called for temperatures in the teens a few days later when we returned. Surely, I’d want to stay as tropical as possible. A regular Jimmy Buffet wearing shorts, drinking margaritas, and eating snapper caught just a few hours earlier.
“No,” I told my wife. “I could go for a martini and chicken parm.”
“But their chicken parm is so mid. Can’t you just wait until we’re back home?”
“Mid chicken parmesan is exactly what I want,” I said.
Cravings are cravings. The heart wants what the stomach wants, and chicken parmesan with a martini is truly one of the most solid orders one can make. But the sad truth is that Italian American cuisine has become so ubiquitous nearly anywhere you go, that like any other type of food with immigrant roots, people have found new and exciting ways to dull it down. Have you ever been to a place that sells itself as “authentic Italian” and then you spot boxes of store-bought pasta in the kitchen, or the tomato sauce has tin flavor? It’s one of those experiences I think nearly everybody has had. It’s the Sbarro slice or the cannoli from the suburban bakery that you need a drill to break through. America has found ways to make food from every corner of the globe into a dull, colorless, tasteless version of the original, but Italian food is often downright disrespected. And besides pizza, I don’t think there’s a dish that has been tarnished as bad as chicken parm. You’d think breaded chicken, mozzarella, and a lot of sauce would be easy. Yet, more often than not, it’s like you’re eating a baseball mitt covered in tomato water and melted string cheese. And that realization was how I came to a comfortable arrangement with the idea of mid.
Mid is one of those terms that the kids started using and eventually, the olds caught wind of it. You know it’s bad because I’ve seen major media outlets try to break it down over the last year or so with the phrase “According to Urban Dictionary,” which is about as much an editorial no-no as saying “Wikipedia defines it as…” It’s like how, in 2014, 16-year-old Kayla Lewis went viral for popularizing “on fleek” and suddenly you could walk in a room anywhere in America and hear somebody using it, likely incorrectly. Every year there are a few of these words that break through into the popular lexicon. A few people who have access to younger friends (or who spend too much time on social media) will start using it, then they’ll end up getting the “What does this mean” treatment from the press. Eventually, if the word has really broken through, it could end up some dictionary’s Word of the Year along with some of the greats like “Allyship,” “Bitcoin,” and 1992’s American Dialect Society’s Wayne’s World-influenced “Not!” I think “Mid” has a chance at Word of the Year status, and I’m actually OK with that. We could all use more mid. I realized that thanks to chicken parmesan.
Here's what I’ve realized: There are three kinds of chicken parm in my mind. The first is Spectacular. This is rare. You normally need to show up at a nonna’s house or do it yourself. I think I’ve had truly mind-blowing, perfect, 10/10 chicken parm at restaurants maybe a handful of times in my life. For my personal tastes, Emillo’s Ballato makes a perfect restaurant version. Perfect amount of sauce and cheese, and the chicken is beaten so thin that it’s almost the size of Michael Jordan’s hand. It’s almost a schnitzel. Michael’s of Brooklyn is wonderful, and while I’m not a fan of waiting on line, the parm sandwich at Parisi is worth the hype.
As I said, spectacular chicken parm is tough to come by, and what I’ve had much more falls in the not-great category. There is a Downright Bad, but that’s parm purgatory and doesn’t deserve its own category. I always get the feeling that if you’re eating truly bad chicken parm, then you likely did that to yourself or the person that picked the place you’re eating at has no clue what they’re talking about. Not Great is something you tend to find if you’re in some touristy part of a town where serving high-quality food might not be as important as turning over tables. Not Great chicken parm is when it’s considered a staple but the person making it doesn’t feel the need to put too much thought into it. A good rule of thumb is if you get chicken parm at a last- or only-resort pizza place (I know you’re not all in New York and have fewer choices than I do), then the chicken parm will likely be not great. If it’s Downright Bad, then never go there again. If it’s an Italian place, then the parm represents the sum of the establishment’s parts. They’re almost certainly using the same cheese and sauce for their pizza, so that likely means the pies are also Not Great or possibly Downright Bad.
Since Spectacular is like the Haley’s Comet of chicken parm and Not Great can be as unsatisfying as it is telling of a restaurant’s other issues, I tend to find there’s one truly dependable chicken parmesan spot, and that’s mid. I’ve had a lot of mid chicken parmesan in my life, and I’ve noticed that places that serve a passable parmesan usually tend to be very good pizza spots. I won’t name any of them simply because I don’t want them seeing this and considering my labeling their work as anything but great and 86ing me, but there are about a dozen places in Brooklyn alone that I’d willing say “Great slice place, mid chicken parm. It's perfect.”
This isn’t a call to arms for chefs to try and make a chicken parmesan that’s “Just OK enough.” Instead, it’s a celebration. It’s me saying that sometimes mid is great. Our expectations are so high now. We all think we’re big-time gourmands who really can tell when the mozz has been made in-house by hand versus when it comes from a truck that came from a loading center in the middle of the country and was made by some soulless machine. Maybe you can, but not everybody has your refined taste buds. I certainly don’t. That’s why I’ve become so attached to mid food. It’s good! It works! I’m satisfied! Mid pad see ew from a decent Thai place? Hell yes! Mid burgers made by your mid friend on his mid grill in the middle of summer? Oh my God, YES! A mid Caesar salad when everything else on a menu looks below-mid? That can save your life, my friend.
I also don’t want you to think we should accept mid in all cases. I just think we need to appreciate that sometimes things have to be mid and mid is better than shit. Most things, unfortunately, are shit. Some things do need to be spectacular, especially with the way prices are these days. But I’ve found, more often than not, when people try to punch up from mid, they often end up falling on their faces and not even noticing it. If you don’t have anything to add to the chicken parmesan game but need it on your menu, just make a good one. Give me a mid chicken parm if that’s the best you can do. I’ll probably keep coming in.
I’ve come around to a similair feeling on cocktails. As more cocktail bars open with overly ambitious menus and under trained staff, I’m feeling better just going to an Irish bar or something and asking for a Martini or a Manhattan (Midhattan?!). It won’t introduce me to any new flavor profiles or batch-freezer techniques, but it’ll be big, boozy and shaken (yes, not stirred) to a satisfactory temperature and dilution.