So many times, I hear the usual sort consistently whine about how there is no “authentic” food in Oklahoma City. If you mean overpriced maladies in upscale districts, then no, you’re probably not going to find it. And, to be fair, it’s seemingly rare even in plenty of mom-and-pop joints around town, at least in the truest sense of the word.
Over the past few years, however, I’ve learned that if you want not only authentic food but wholly authentic friendships as well, you need to shake the hand of a man you normally wouldn’t. Whether they’re an immigrant from Africa, Iraq or, hell, even Mexico, the foreign friendships you make will last a lifetime and, at the very least, an extremely “authentic” lunchtime. No walls, only bridges.