There is a specific genre of criticism reserved for the Amish buffet. It is a mixture of fascination and revulsion, usually espoused by food purists who view these establishments as culinary crimes scenes.
The narrative goes like this: The buffet is where culinary dreams go to die. It is a place where quality is sacrificed on the altar of quantity, where busloads of tourists descend to gorge on unlimited fried chicken and mashed potatoes, and where the “Plain People”—known for their modesty and rejection of worldly vanity—engage in the most ostentatious display of commercial gluttony imaginable.
Critics often point to the optics. One local food writer in Lancaster recently lamented the scene, describing it as a frightening parade of “obese people with walkers” shuffling toward the carving station for one last slice of ham. The argument is that these carbohydrate cathedrals are hypocritical traps, luring the “English” (non-Amish) in with the promise of heritage but delivering only industrial-scale calories…