The Biggest Chain Restaurant Tier List Of All Time: Part I
The pandemic has forced me to branch out with my distractions. Sports, my longtime biggest time suck, went away for a while back in March and have not come back in a way that fully herbs my chicken. The election is over (!!!), so I am not refreshing all those blogs every ten minutes. I have become a veteran of Vine/TikTok comps, the former being clearly superior. The Needle Drop, CGP Grey, and Oversimplified have made me more cultured in a fun way and not in a boring way like books.
My biggest kick, though? Fast food reviews.
We have been doing a lot of take-out. Grocery shopping is too close to a real-life Resident Evil. As much as we want to support local businesses and as often as we do, we are not wealthy. Fast food or corporate food is often the best budgetary choice when we do not want to cook or arm ourselves with Lysol and cattle prods for the mouth breathing non-maskers.
There are a lot of new fast-food products every day but only so few calories we can allot. We want to know what our best choices are without using precious resources to find out.
Bill Oakley, Doughboys, and TheReviewOfTheWeek, aka Review Brah, are the kings of this arena. I am not entirely sure where Review Brah is based out of, but Oakley and the Doughboys are west coast based.
Even though the hilarious and insightful Doughboy Mike “Spoonman” Mitchell is a Quincy native, the northeast does not get to experience all our nation’s great chains. On the other side of this plate, those pillars of internet food criticism don’t typically get to try what the other side of the Mississippi has to offer. This is where I come in.
I love fast food; I love chain restaurants and I’ve been to a lot of them despite being a New Englander. I often seek them out when traveling. I have not done a ton of traveling this year, but somehow, my neck of the woods in Maine has added some national chains so I have been able to cast my net just a bit further. I feel ready to share my chain restaurant tier list.
While I tried, this is not an exhaustive list. I did not include Papa Ginos or D’Angelos because they’re on the way out and aren’t special anyway. Regina Pizzeria (Pizzeria Regina if you know, you know) is a step above a chain restaurant and is only in the Boston metro area even though it would surely dominate the pizza world if I included it. Moe’s Italian Subs and Amato’s (both quite good and would probably be in the A or B tier) are also probably too small and act as more of a Mom-and-Pop shop than any of these corporate behemoths. If a restaurant has a few locations but used to have hundreds, I did my best to include them as they once had a national profile.
I didn’t even include Red Lobster because I have no reason to go as a resident of Maine and I am offended by its existence. I can walk to Pine Point Beach, stick my paw in the water, and catch a four-pound lobster first try. I think I would be deported and/or set on fire if I ever ordered from Red Lobster. I don’t want to risk talking about it too much and alert the Agents of Augusta. People freak out over the biscuits, but again, there are so many biscuits in the world. They sell Cheddar Bay Biscuit kits at most grocery stores and I can put cheese and Old Bay seasoning in a homemade one if I chose to be a certain kind of self-loathing.
I will also talk about a few restaurants I have not been to as they have a giant national profile and to leave them off would be a disservice. Thankfully, I do know a fair amount about these chains despite not having been there.
The tier bracket I used is an amalgamation of several on the Tiermaker website. The tiers are as follows: S is the best tier (meaning superb), A is the second-best, followed by B, then the C, then D, and finally F. Basically, the American grading system with an S on top. There is one final tier of restaurants creatively labeled “Never Been, But Have Insight.” A big shout out to my buddy Mike Sullivan for pointing out a few missing places. My Tiermaker template is available here if you want to make your own version to debate with me.
A big point to end this rambling preamble. There are no equitable ethics within the American brand of capitalism. Most, if not all these restaurants use factory farming to some degree. We all know about Chick-Fil-A’s awful past with LGBTQ rights and the wage slavery several of these restaurants (especially the biggest ones) impose on their employees in a total display of greed and disrespect. Subway long employed someone who is a pedophile as the face of their company. Our country is rife with problems and corporations are at the very center of it. All these things are awful and need desperate reform and I do not endorse the views of the charlatans that perpetuate these societal maladies. I yearn to live in a world without greed or hate. However, I want to emphasize that this is largely not a political post or a social issues piece. This is about food. If you’re someone who cannot separate a restaurant from its controversies, I respect that and I implore you to write your own piece. I will likely applaud it and agree with you.
Lastly, despite all these qualifiers, I am a junk-food scholar, and these food opinions should be taken as gospel.
Let’s kick this off with the major chains I’ve never been to but do know a little about.
NEVER BEEN, BUT HAVE INSIGHT
The two biggest exclusions here are clearly In-N-Out Burger and Waffle House. Both restaurants are the subject of major regional obsessions. In-N-Out is the Tsar of California and has branched out to Nevada, Arizona, Oregon, and Texas. Waffle House now finally outnumbers confederate statues in the South due to recent legislation. Okay, one political joke.
New York has a small chain of restaurants called Petey’s Burger. I have it on good authority that Petey’s is a reasonable facsimile of In-N-Out. I have been to Petey’s dozens of times. It is phenomenal. If In-N-Out is the same or better than Petey’s, it is S tier all the way.
Not having been to Waffle House is less excusable as I have been to the South countless times. My family growing up was never much of a “go out to breakfast” bunch and my schedule has never really allowed for me to go to a Waffle House in my adult life. Next time I am down there, I will go. I have looked at the menu several times and I am blown away by how cheap it is and who doesn’t like waffles? It apparently never closes either, so you know it’s reliable. I expect this will also be an A or S tier eventually.
My friends from the Midwest and the Virginia/Carolinas area all say that Culver’s and Cookout are excellent restaurants. Culver’s and Cookout are in the platinum and gold plate club on Doughboys, respectively. My Virginia based cousin says Cookout is better than Five Guys and has way (WAY) more to offer. My buddy Bob thinks Nebraska chain Runza (a little too small for what we are doing here) is the pinnacle of humanity but says Culver’s comes in second to them. By that logic, knowing how much Bob loves Runza, Culver’s should have several Michelin Stars. Possibly four. Both chains seem like probable A or S tiers.
Hardees and Carl’s Jr. are huge chains with no presence whatsoever north and east of Philadelphia. When I have been near both, there were more popular options or more known entities at the time nearby. They are not super high on my priority list as some of their food looks like edible monster trucks. Likely a C tier, possibly a D.
Dave and Busters never really appealed to me. I don’t like spending a ton of money on arcade games when I have my own video games. I imagine gaming is a necessary part of the experience. COVID must be especially ravaging D&B. Is the food worth it on its own? I looked at a few reviews and they’re strong! The dishes seem creative in as far as American chain restaurants go, with Chicken and waffle sliders, and a Pepperoni Pretzel Pull-Apart leaping out to me. I’ll give it a shot, and go in with high expectations, which is usually a bad frame of mind to be in when trying something new because most things suck. I would cap this at an A-tier, but I would wager it ends up in the B/C range.
Church’s Chicken does fried chicken, which is the best-fried meat. It seems likely to be better than KFC, but so is getting punched in the face. B seems like a good ceiling.
Del Taco has tacos which are almost always great, and they serve crinkle-cut fries. Crinkle cut fries are the best cut of fries. Don’t believe me? Some people in Portland, ME have been trying to physically fight these restaurant owners that stopped making crinkle cuts because they were too labor-intensive. Ain’t nobody fighting over some stupid steak fries. Del Taco might end up a B someday.
Cici’s advertises around my neck of the woods, but I’ve never seen one in the wild. They do a cheap pizza buffet with two solid-looking dessert pizza options, so at best, it could be something reminiscent of the ancient relic of times better, the classic Pizza Hut buffet. At worst, Cici’s could be like the current Pizza Hut but for cheaper. Likely C tier, possibly B.
Jack In The Box has those fried tacos that developed a cult following that Burger King miserably failed to copy AND they have the traditional fast food fare too. I appreciate variety, especially whilst inebriated, and since the pandemic is high time to be high, it would be great to have one near me. I think a B seems probable, but I would imagine there are a ton of consistency issues from restaurant to restaurant.
We have a small Moe’s Southwest Grill presence around here. It appears to be quite like Qdoba. Not going to drive in a blizzard to get it, and would you look at that, it is snowing as I type this. I can’t see it going higher than a B.
Potbelly’s seems like what would happen if Panera made the sub rolls for Subway in some weird collaboration no one wanted. The C seems the highest level it could reach, but my fiancée said it’s “fine airport food.”
My new favorite politician John Fetterman constantly tweets that Sheetz is better than Wawa. My DNA is from South Jersey, so that is A BOLD CLAIM for me to get behind, but Fetterman rules and he is usually right. Possibly an A, but I doubt I’ll rank it over Wawa as I still want an inheritance.
Sonic is an interesting omission. There is one I drive by often in Peabody, Massachusetts but it’s on a particular stretch of Route 1 that is the worst place to drive in America. I would rather listen to Jar Jar Binks read the lyrics of the thirty worst Rush songs for a month than try and make one right turn out of that parking lot. I’ve heard Sonic is just okay. The absolute ceiling for Sonic is a B, but I am guessing C.
Steak ‘n Shake has an unfortunate name and has been bought and sold roughly a billion times. That sort of corporate instability does not instill confidence. Is it any better than vintage Friendly’s or Johnny Rockets? Probably in the middle. I’m thinking C at best? I could really see this as a D.
Whataburger is puzzling to me. Adored in Texas, not loved by anyone else. I expect to make my first trip to the state in the coming years, but they have In-N-Out and actual BBQ too. I’ll feel weird asking my friends or cousins to go there, so perhaps I’ll go if I am sober enough to repel from their window in the dead of night. Might have A potential, but I bet it ends up with the Bs.
There used to be an On The Border down the street from me next to a Mattress Firm. There were always more cars at the Mattress Firm, and no one in human history has ever been to a Mattress Firm even though there are three of them on the same fucking street. The restaurant is closed now. I’ll go ahead and guess a C is the mean, median, and mode.
New England finally got a Wingstop. I make a damn good wing and live near a solid wing joint AND there’s a wing chain coming out of New England at such a rapid pace that it’ll likely cannibalize every other corporate wing spot in the area because they are far superior. More on them later. I don’t need to go to Wingspot and soon you won’t either. Maybe a touch better than B-Dubs? The B to C range, a popular range as you’ll see, is the probable home.
Lastly is Zaxby’s, another fried chicken spot. There is an appreciable amount of “Zaxby’s is better than Chick-Fil-A posts” on the ol’ Googler. Chick-Fil-A lives on the highest floor of the fast-food skyscraper in the minds of many, so such praise cannot be taken lightly. I can’t wait to try Zaxby’s. Maybe I won’t have to donate to The Trevor Project every time I eat a sandwich there. Sorry, one Chick-Fil-A joke. That’s it. A strong feeling of an A on this one.
(Also, you don’t need an excuse to donate to The Trevor Project. Do it now if you can.)
THE F TIER: WOULD ONLY GO AGAIN IF YOU FORGAVE ALL MY DEBTS AND VANQUISH ALL OF MY KNOWN ENEMIES
SMOKEY BONES
Within the F tier are two restaurants that are tied for giving me the worst dining experience of my life. Smokey Bones is up first.
There used to be a Smokey Bones in my hometown. It was always packed, had a cool-looking cabin vibe. My best friend at the time was dating this woman who landed a serving job there. The stars were aligning. I was sure it was going to be good. Never have high expectations for anything, kids.
We get there and are told it will be an hour's wait. With the requisite blinking hockey puck in hand, my best friend, my other best friend, and I aimlessly wandered the plaza parking lot famished.
After meandering for what felt like an interminable amount of time, the dark disk of promise finally started emitting light and generally freaking out. We were graciously permitted entrance into Smokey Bones. My buddy’s girlfriend was our server, and she was F L U S T E R E D.
Apparently, the kitchen was perpetually screwing up tickets and we were told this was commonplace. Next came a warning that our food would take up to another hour. If my buddy weren’t dating this person, I bet we would have left and walked the two-hundred feet to Taco Bell. We decided (he decided) that we would stick around. We aren’t friends anymore.
I ordered a burger. If you’re an American chain restaurant serving American food, you should have a decent burger. I often get a burger the first time I go to a new place. It’s safe, always at least decent. This burger made me an atheist. It was well-done on one half and rare on the other as if the burger were teetering on the edge of the grill and no one noticed. The bun was a bulbous crouton. I think it was left out on the counter all day and was buried under a pile of misplaced tickets and then served to me as punishment for sins unknown.
I sent my meal back. I have never done that before and I haven’t done it since. It was removed from the bill. My buddy’s gal pal was super apologetic and gave me a free dessert as a consolation. It was a bag of “freshly made” cinnamon sugar donuts. Growing up in New Hampshire, I am quite familiar with warm, apple cider donuts. I’ve developed a strong affinity for them.
There was a lengthy piece on Deadspin years ago (when it was cool) that ranked all the most prominent food items of each state from 1 to 52. They claimed that the cultural food of New Hampshire is something called “Boiled Dinner.” Boiled dinner is horrendous, no one eats it, and it didn’t deserve any national press. Apple cider donuts are from Northern Mass/Southern New Hampshire. Since Mass already has clam chowder, The Shire gets the donuts. My case for NH claiming the apple cider donut is that the two best purveyors of apple cider donuts in the world are in Chichester and Loudon, New Hampshire. This is not debatable. I will reject your rebuttal. Hard.
Speaking of hard, how about these circular disgraces that were brought to me as an apology from The Smokey Bone corporation?! Between the burger and these donuts, it’s clear Smokey Bones doesn’t know what consistency dough should be served at. The donuts were crunchy all the way through and served with a caramel sauce in a little cup. The caramel was basically a giant Werther’s Original that I couldn’t pierce with my pumice stone of a baked good. I would have preferred 1999 Pedro Martinez chuck a bag of stale Hostess Donettes at my head from three feet away than eat this again.
The Smokey Bones closed probably a month later. I did not mourn. The lovely couple didn’t make it. I did end up getting Taco Bell after all.
BLIMPIE
Blimpie had some decent ads in the 90s and early 2000 that were funny and showcased this beautiful, braided bread they had called a Blimpie Blast. It was a six-foot sub that looked soft and pillowy and worthy of slapping a stockyard’s worth of meat in-between. The commercials then faded away and I forgot about Blimpies because I was too busy studying for various grade school standardized tests that would dictate my life. Around the time I got my results (“underappreciated blogger”), a Blimpie came to my hometown. It was in Wal-Mart.
I was wrapping up high school when Blimpie arrived. My friend happened to land a job there. He listened to Mindless Self Indulgence on the kitchen radio and had sex with his girlfriend in the freezer. He must have had good circulation.
One fateful afternoon, I came by to purchase a video game but also to say hi to my pal and maybe get some lunch, ideally a smaller version of the sandwich I remembered from my youth. I asked about the braided bread Blimpie Blast. My friend was perplexed. They did not carry a braided bread of any size. It was a good introduction to adulthood: Crushing disappointment.
Instead, I had a grilled chicken sub with a jalapeno sauce on some regular bread. It tasted like my friend had sex right next to it.
DENNY’S
The alleged appeal of Denny’s is that it’s good when you’re drunk. Denny’s is the culinary equivalent of driving your kids to school after chugging a fifth of Mad Dog.
Why do their pancakes always taste freezer-burned? I’ve gone twice, got pancakes both times, and both times, I ended up sitting in the booth dissecting them with my fork. They can’t possibly freeze pancakes ahead of time, right? Pancakes are designed to be pumped out in diners, not flash-frozen and reheated. I have a hard time believing that’s their business model. Whatever, man. They tasted like it.
The food looks so much better in commercials, more so than any other chain. Maybe they are assuming their target demographic has beer goggles on, or maybe I drink too much.
THE HARD ROCK CAFÉ
My Word document automatically added an accent to the E. I am upset with this touch of class awarded to a franchise completely lacking any.
I went to the Hard Rock Café in Washington DC back in my junior year of high school as part of a field trip. I was excited to go! This restaurant appealed to me in a carnal way. A teenage boy who was into heavy music might see this as a mecca since teenage boys are dumb.
This class trip was kind of a disaster. We had a creepy tour guide for Arlington National Cemetery who made sure to tell us all repeatedly that JFK was assassinated by Lee Harvey Oswald and there were no other accomplices. “NO! OTHER! ACCOMPLICES!” I also had a laser pointer I bought before the trip (I don’t know why…testosterone raging through my body?) confiscated because other teens who ALSO had laser pointers for some reason were aiming them out of the windows of our bus in Washington DC, so a bunch of counter-terrorism officers and a giant German Shepherd came on board and searched all of us. They didn’t find drugs or weapons, but they did find that two kids had freshly soiled trousers.
I had two bad restaurant experiences on this trip as well. Hard Rock Café was one of them.
Hard Rock Café’s waitstaff felt compelled to line us all up to yell at us before allowing us entrance. There was some head server who I think was named Jay. He was jacked and loud. This is what he said. I will never forget it:
“ALL EYES ON ME. I AM THE CAPTAIN TONIGHT. HERE’S HOW THE NIGHT IS GONNA GO, KAY? WE HAVE A LIMITED MENU! WE HAVE A HAMBURGER. WE HAVE A CHEESEBURGER. WE HAVE GRILLED CHEESE. WE HAVE CHICKEN TENDERS. ALL COME WITH FRIES. YOU GET ONE SOFT DRINK REFILL. WE DON’T HAVE ANY OTHER ITEMS AVAILABLE TO YOU. KAY? BE NICE TO YOUR SERVER. THEY HAVE BEEN TIPPED IN ADVANCE BY YOUR SCHOOL. EXTRA TIPS ARE APPRECIATED. IF ANYONE IS BEING RUDE OR UNRULY, YOU WILL BE KICKED OUT AND NOT PERMITTED TO RETURN. Everyone, have fun.”
After I wiped all the spittle off my face, I ordered the cheeseburger. The thing was thicker than Jay’s neck, overcooked, and served with six fries.
The Washington Capitals play right down the street from this place. If they ever run out of pucks, no worries, they can get a few burgers.
I just learned after a quick Google that the Seminole Tribe of Florida owns Hard Rock Café. I wish them success with their business venture, namely, convincing rich Republicans to spend money on overpriced t-shirts and the worst burgers money can buy this side of Smokey Bones.
SBARRO
Sbarro’s whole approach is to set up shop in a major thoroughfare and sell you a single triangle covered in enough grease to stop your next of kin’s heart by-proxy.
I am all for heart-stopping meals, but it seems doubly dangerous to eat a Sbarro’s XL NY slice while walking through a mall or bus depot. You’re guaranteed to leave behind a red lipid trail that could cause enough slip and fall injuries to make a television lawyer salivate. Incidentally, that’s the only way any human could be induced to drool over Sbarro's.
The scene where Michael Scott excitedly runs to a Sbarro to get himself “some New York pizza” is my Dad’s favorite from The Office, so Sbarro is a soft F.
GOLDEN CORRAL
Here’s the other bad meal experience from my DC adventure.
Yet again, I was doomed by my own high expectations. I was a sucker for buffets in my youth. Especially Chinese buffets. Yes, the quality of mass-produced food for cheap is expected to be low, but that’s the magic of a fryolator, my friends.
Golden Corral has tons of fryers, to be sure, but they emphasize other things like their steaks or carving stations. I am not the biggest fan of carving stations in the world, but I think going to Golden Corral for a carving station is sort of like going to Chernobyl for the fresh air.
I didn’t go for the carving station, I ended up going with the shrimp, the fried chicken, the fries, the mac and cheese, the pizza, and a little bit of salad to not die of scurvy. Not featured items? Perhaps. However, this is simple shit. Shrimp isn’t supposed to taste like vinyl siding. Fried chicken should be moist and not sandy. Also, steak fries? I hate steak fries. Objectively the worst fries. If they’re undercooked, you’re eating a raw potato. If they’re overcooked, it’s Burnt Oil City. If you’re a restaurant that has insane bulk food turnover, you should opt for standard cut fries, crinkle cuts, or tater tots. Steak fries are an error in this setting.
I will say Golden Corral had one thing going for it: A hot fudge pump for ice cream. Nothing like controlling your own hot fudge destiny.
Any points that Golden Corral would have gained for the hot fudge pump was immediately lost. The bathroom in the Golden Corral I went to was abominable. There was a turd on the seat. Not like a little dog turd either. This turd was as if a full-grown man (possibly Hard Rock Jay?) missed the bowl and hit the seat and neglected to address it. I needed to use this toilet and it was the only one. How does a buffet have one toilet?! A latrine would have been more acceptable. I would have appreciated the WWI history lesson and it would have paired well with the shellshock I was feeling.
To make matters worse, a little kid walked into the bathroom while I was assessing my options. Much to my horror, he decided to climb under the door of the stall I was occupying, look up, and ask me, “Have you ever seen the Alien vs. Predator movies”
No. But what I just went through was arguably more frightening.
Lastly, I want to share this article with you all. A Golden Corral recently opened near where I grew up. The horde descended upon it mid-pandemic. America, you beautiful diabetic bastard, please change your ways. It starts with you not going to Golden Corral anymore.
Long John Silvers
My aunt used to be married to this guy who would only eat Long John Silver’s. Seriously. We had to go to Long John Silver’s the day before Thanksgiving and re-heat the food to be served on Thanksgiving Day. Fish planks, hush puppies, whatever those little fried bits of batter are, fries and coleslaw. When we went to grab his food in what might be the weirdest placation of a man-child in modern history, I decided to order some of their food. I got a battered shrimp platter. Save yourself some time and consider whether you would like to drink a bottle of spent canola oil straight, no chaser. If the answer is yes, order some shrimp, sailor.
SUBWAY
This one hurts me on some level. I’ve gone to Subway so many times. I went constantly in my younger days because they’re everywhere, including the small town I am from. Subway was a cheap lunch option when I was broke as all get out living in New York. The sweet onion chicken teriyaki on honey oat with Sun Chips was a go-to for several years.
Then a phenomenon happened. Things got more expensive AND quality slipped tremendously. At peak, Subway was a B. The food was never at the top of the charts, but the flavor profile was good enough to carry the meat and veggies along. But the meat got worse and worse and worse. The cookies got harder and harder and harder. The bread got staler and staler and staler. That wet cardboard smell that permeates from every storefront got stronger and stronger and stronger.
I last went to Subway in 2019. I couldn’t finish what used to be my regular because the chicken was removed and replaced with pencil erasers with little grill marks on them. I literally SAW them microwave the chicken and they’re trying to act all like it was grilled? That’s bold, Subway. So was removing the nearly menu-wide $5 Footlong. That was your niche and then you made it day specific. I can’t keep track of who’s coming to my own wedding let alone what day my favorite sub is $5. If you had kept the promotion you were most famous for, you probably wouldn’t need to close so many stores.
Subway. It’s over. Tie the giant jeans that are kicking around your warehouse somewhere to the main-mast and sail away.
ROY ROGERS
There’s a truck stop in Sturbridge, MA that used to have a Roy Rogers. After being stuck in New York traffic for three hours and pledging not to stop for food in Connecticut, I pulled over at the first opportunity in Massachusetts. I wanted anything. ANYTHING.
Then I saw the pictures of the food on the menu.
Not exactly ideal.
I had to choose between some depressing looking burgers or a “Gold Rush Chicken Sandwich,” which is a creative way to say, “Someone in the back blew their nose on your sandwich and then added some bacon.” I opted for the chicken because it looked more substantive. I ordered a combo meal, which rang up around $8. I handed them a debit card, and this supposed national chain said, “Ten dollar minimum on cards.” I’ll admit, I was madder than the situation should have allowed for, but I wasn’t enthused about my meal anyway, so adding that pathetic looking burger to the mix was not a preferred choice. I was also too broke to be going to Roy Rogers in the first place.
I put all the food down as fast as I could just for the calories. Everything was dry and flavorless. The toll booth operator on I-84 was horrified by the grease and gold sauce on my face. I assume my puffy, goopy mug was why Massachusetts moved to remove all toll booths two years later.
I will leave out the rest of the harrowing details of my night driving back to my parents’ place with those time bombs digesting in my stomach.
That restaurant I visited is closed now. All Roy Rogers locations should be.
Señor Frogs
Full disclosure: I didn’t eat here, but I tried. I had an experience, though. Quite recently, in fact.
Before COVID hit the states like an apocalyptic Beatlemania, I had the privilege to go on a cruise with some of my closest friends for a wedding. Part of the trip had us stop in Nassau. After exploring the city and the beach, my now fiancée and I suggested to our group to get some lunch at Señor Frogs. We had heard good things from family and wanted to pay that good advice forward. I am so sorry, friends.
We walked in and they had a table for the ten or so of us. That’s cool! The place was popping. It was popping at an alarming rate. It was a great sign to get a table too easily. I remember thinking, “Yes, they must handle big groups all the time. It’s festive, but a well-oiled machine This was a good choice. I’m smart and sexy.”
After waiting for roughly twenty minutes, someone finally came over for a drink order. Señor Frogs, as you might expect being in a tropical environment, does lots of blended drinks. I ordered the titular cocktail, The Señor Frog. My friends ordered a cavalcade of other sugary adult beverages.
Honestly, I liked the Señor Frog. I was buzzed already, and it was sweet. My friends seemed to have a range of reactions and weren’t overly impressed by and large. We also ordered nachos. They never came.
Therefore, Sir Frog is getting an F. When you’re a restaurant in a touristy area, focused on a party atmosphere, you need to be up to the challenge of being a restaurant. We waited forty minutes after being seated and only got one drink. At the very least, we should have gotten the opportunity to order two, maybe even three drinks. The pacing needs to be at an appreciable level and appetizers need to be flying out of the kitchen. I am not asking every restaurant to be Le Bernardin, but people should have appetizers within the first hour they’re there at least. I may be an entitled white prick from the suburbs, but I dOn’T tHiNk ThAt’S tOo MuCh tO aSk.
Whistles. So many whistles. Some servers have whistles. The DJ has a whistle. It’s piercingly loud in there. In the middle of us waiting for our nachos, someone came over offering three-dollar tequila shots and blared a whistle at us between each sentence. We were all seasick and hungover from the night before so we weren’t really interested in attending this apparent seminar for drunk referees too long.
It’s quite possible that all of us young professionals aren’t Señor Frogs target demographic. Not long after we canceled our nachos order but before we received our bill, the DJ very joyously exclaimed that someone in attendance was just released from prison and they were drinking in celebration. Specifically, they said, “YO, this guy JUST GOT OUT OF JAIIIIILLLL, buy him a drink!”
Hell yeah. Good on you. No idea what you were in for, the prison and justice system in America is plagued with issues. Having said that, we’re going to leave now.
SKYLINE CHILI
My Grandpop was the man. He, unfortunately, died in 2019 and I miss him. We had a goal to travel to every single baseball stadium in America. Sadly, we didn’t accomplish our goal, but we had a lot of fun trying. My favorite place to catch a Major League game is Pittsburgh’s PNC Park. Clear views of the Pittsburgh skyline, incredible food, great sightlines. I would encourage anyone and everyone to catch a game as soon as you can in Pittsburgh.
Also, you get to spend time in Pittsburgh! Underrated city. I am a big Patriots and Bruins fan, hate the Steelers and Penguins with a passion, but I love it there. It reminds me of home, somehow.
Nearby is Ohio. I like Ohio too. I’ve been lucky enough to go to Columbus for two weddings in the last three years. I’ve really enjoyed it. Tons to do, cheap drinks and good food.
Have I said enough things nice about Ohio? Cool.
Also nearby are several Skyline Chili locations. Skyline Chili serves a food item called Cincinnati Chili, or “’ Natti Chili.” My Grandfather liked it. He was right about lots of stuff. He was wrong about this one.
I can’t remember what town this Skyline Chili was in. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the slop they serve. Its grody meat sauce served over spaghetti.
As a personal preference, I don’t like meat sauce. Give me real marinara sauce with meatballs or get out. However, I will stomach it if the sauce is a legit red sauce. That gravy. MAMA MIA!
Cincinnati Chili is meat folded into a slightly spiced pulpy ketchup. It’s weird and I don’t like it. Over spaghetti? That’s a texture arrangement akin to eating a softened Brillo pad that was used to scrape the contents of a Ragu delivery truck off the highway.
This is awful. Absolutely terrible. My Grandpop was the best, but his food preferences weren’t exactly in line with the gourmands.
Do you have a family member or friend who keeps bringing the same dish to every family gathering you have? A fruit salad with a weird topping, perhaps. You don’t want to be rude to your Aunt Becca, so you grin and bear it. It’s a catch-22 because once you start eating the fruit salad, your Aunt Becca assumes you like it, so she keeps bringing it.
Cincinnati Chili is the same idea that somehow impacted an entire state. Governor Becca brought a Crock-Pot of her thin meat slop and wet noodles to the capital building and no one told her it’s bad and now they can’t get rid of it. LIBERATE OHIO!
Part II: Tiers D and C coming soon.
