So maybe the chance to taste the flaky spawn of a doughnut and croissant won't get you lining up at the crack of dawn. Maybe you're holding out for a burger nestled between fried ramen noodles. Or perhaps it's the elusive McRib that moves you.
Whatever flies your foodie flag, it's hard to deny that Americans love feeling part of something deliciously exclusive, that they clamor to taste trendy, hard-to-get morsels.
"It's very much getting that badge of honor," Tanya Steel, editor-in-chief at Epicurious.com, says of recent food crazes that have seen people lined up for hours to get a so-called Cronut or ramen burger. "It's the trophy mentality. They can brag to their friends and family, and say 'It's great, it's not so great.' It gives you bragging rights."
It's tempting to dismiss the fanaticism as a crazy New York thing. After all, it is the city that gave us Cronut craziness. Here, people line up in the wee hours to wait for a chance to get one of pastry chef Dominique Ansel's trademarked (really!) treats. He makes just a few hundred a day and scalpers are known to work the line.
But this is bigger than New York. In Washington, D.C., Georgetown Cupcake often opens with hundreds of customers already waiting. In Portland, Ore., people try to beat the clock at VooDoo Doughnut. In Chicago, you can join the mob at the Doughnut Vault or at Kuma's Corner, where the hamburgers are named after heavy metal bands. Austin has Franklin Barbecue, Los Angeles has the Kogi Korean taco truck and San Francisco has — no fooling — lines for toast.
So why do we do it?
Scarcity — whether real or manufactured — drives people toward food trends, savvy observers say. On a recent day in Los Angeles, 1,000 people lined up to try to get one of 500 ramen burgers, a Brooklyn-born treat featuring a hamburger cradled between two stacks of fried soup noodles.
"It's really an old thing from the playbook of marketing," says Richard Martin, editorial director at Foodrepublic.com. "Do you want to create that limited edition buzz around a product or offer it up to as many people as want it?"
In a world where so much has been tried, tested and exploited on reality TV and elsewhere, hunger for the next new thing also plays big into keeping trends like the Cronut and the ramen burger going.
"We like things that are fleeting. We like to experience what's new," says Dana Cowin, editor-in-chief at Food & Wine magazine. "A great steakhouse is just not the same thing as tasting something that has just been created yesterday. ... It's part of our undying quest for the new."
American food fads stretch back decades, at least. There was baked brie and spinach dip in the '80s, Jell-O molds in the '50s and '60s. But none of that food existed as a self-conscious part of the culture, as something that people took notice of and discussed. Today, food is part of the culture the way movies or books are.
"Food has become entertainment," says Martin. "It used to be that people would passively accept things and buy it if it tasted good. But you walk around New York City and you hear people talking about food the way they would talk about news events or movies or art. It's a big part of the culture now. If you came out with a food item that didn't have a backstory, it's probably not going to catch on."