A couple of decades ago – another time, another life – your Lost Coast Outpost somehow found itself sitting down in a West Amsterdam neighborhood restaurant called Moeders Pot. The scene was so foreign that it took me a while to realize what I was witnessing.

There were maybe 50 people seated at the large, U-shaped counter in the center of the establishment, or at tables around the edges. At the center of the U was one enormous fat man running the entire show. He was taking orders, cooking and delivering the food, cracking open beers for people, bussing plates, running the cash register — all of it. Maybe he had a dishwasher in the back, I’m not sure. But he was doing absolutely everything else himself, and none of the dozens and dozens of customers had any complaints, believe me.

The food? It wasn’t going to win any Michelin stars, for sure, but it was hot and tasty and filling and cheap. Nutritious, even.

Moeders Pot closed a few years back, apparently, after surviving 40-plus years with the same formula and the same enormous fat man. This blogger has a nice eulogy for the place.

Fast forward to the present day. This year, circumstances have frequently taken your Lost Coast Outpost to various locations all around California and Oregon and Nevada. One of the things you notice, in almost every place but here, is how many sort of fast-casual spots – not just chains, but locally owned places too, and not just in big cities but in towns smaller than ours – have fully embraced maximum computer-assisted efficiency. Order on an iPad, pay with your phone, receive good food quickly at a reasonable price.

Why can this not be the Humboldt way too?

Why does almost every Humboldt restaurant aspire to become a white-linen affair, with multiple forks at the place setting, a napkin in your lap and people filling your water glass – places that can be fun to visit, but can hardly be a way of life?

Why haven’t even the committedly casual places adopted some of the cost-saving, people-feeding measures outlined above?

Why didn’t the food trucks save us? Why, apart from burrito wagons of varying quality, do they insist upon offering organic artisanally sourced grass-fed GMO-free lunch entrees with zero sides for somewhere in the neighborhood of $20?

Why can so few entrepreneurs here make feeding people – lots and lots of people – their mission statement?

Your Lost Coast Outpost is not a businessperson, and it’s been a long, long time since it has worked in food service. Here are the only things we know:

1. They do it a lot differently, and better, and more cheaply, in other places. I’m not even talking about wonders of the world like tiffin service in India, or street stalls in Latin America or southeast Asia, but about places like Red Bluff and Chico and Medford.

2. Humboldt County is poor and will not get noticeably richer anytime soon, and our upmarket food space is thoroughly oversaturated, with new entrants coming and going all the time. But there is lots of room at the bottom. Adopt or die.

Now: Will they listen?