Ed: Just noticed their billboard says kids eat free on Tuesday nights!
El Puerto Mexican Grill & Bar
775 S Highland St
(901) 452-8019
Warren and I each had people tell us to try El Puerto, so after the last Rock-n-Romp we did. I was surprised to see it fairly empty at 7pm on a Saturday.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “I hope this isn’t a bad sign.”
Warren gave me the option of leaving, but I decided to stick it out—and I’m glad I did.
After the monkeys (Satchel, 6, and Jiro, 4) made a (definitely too small to change a diaper in) bathroom run and cleaned themselves up, a very nice hostess/waitress took us to a booth by the window. (El Puerto has a patio, but we wanted to sit inside after spending most of the day outside.) She gave each of the monkeys a menu page with activities to color. They jumped right in while Warren and I looked at the menu.
The menu didn’t seem too different from more popular restaurants like El Porton and Los Compadres. (Someone once told me—or maybe I read it somewhere—that there was a “consultant” who went to all of the Mexican restaurants in town and helped them revamp their menus to suit American tastes. I don’t know if this is true, but there certainly do seem to be a lot of similarities between menus.)
Warren, as usual, called out several items and asked me if I had tried them before settling once again on carnitas. I asked the kids what they wanted, but got no response. (They were much too busy coloring.) The kids menu also included “4 grill shrimps and rice” which is not a usual kids option. Warren wanted to get it for Satchel, but both monkeys prefer fried shrimp. Eventually Satchel agreed to eat a soft taco with rice & beans, but Jiro insisted that he wasn’t hungry.
“Are you sure you don’t want a quesadilla?” I asked Jiro.
“I’m.Not.Hungee!”
“We ate a lot of snacks at Rock-n-Romp,” Satchel reported.
Considering neither one of them showed much interest in the cheese dip, I had to believe that even though I was starved, they were not. (The cheese dip was a tad spicier than at other places, so I guess it was good that they didn’t want any.)
When the waitress came over, I was still trying to convince Warren to order some flautas for Jiro, just in case, but he wouldn’t go for it. I ordered the tacos al carbon with two chicken and one beef (or maybe it was the other way around) and Jiro got nothing.
“I want a Diet Coke,” he said.
I looked at Warren. Our strict “no Coke” rule had been no-so-strict lately. For the past year or so, both monkeys have been allowed sips of my Diet Dr. Peppers. On rare occasions they have been allowed to order their own Coke as a treat—usually only to take a few sips and then lose interest. This still seems to be the case—especially with Satchel.
Jiro seems more interested in winning the battle for a forbidden soda than he is in drinking it. As Warren will tell you, I most often take the path of least resistance. If I can’t break Jiro of his Coke fantasy after a few minutes of protesting, I usually just give in. (Great parenting, I know, but he is one stubborn little monkey.)
Satchel’s soft taco kid’s meal actually came with a soft drink, which he wasn’t interested in, so we let Jiro have a Diet Coke. (Clearly he has no idea what “diet” means.) The waitress gave me a look that said, “That little kid wants a Diet Coke? Am I really supposed to believe that?”
“That’s really what he wants,” I said taking a big sip of my water. (You know, so she wouldn’t think I was going to quench my thirst with his drink.)
The monkeys continued to color while we waited for the food. Satchel had his arms mostly in his sleeves due to his extreme sensitivity to air-conditioning, which made coloring a bit more challenging for him. Looking at the sheet, it seemed to be an odd mix of photocopied animals and hand-drawn lettering.
The restaurant was slowly filling up, but it was never what I would call crowded. It was actually quite nice. Sometimes El Porton can get a little loud (which was great when the monkeys were little) and Los Compadres gets a little slow when busy. I was actually enjoying the quiet.
Our food came out very quickly and I was very impressed with the size of Satchel’s kid’s meal. It seemed like a lot of food. He only had one taco, but it was on an eight inch tortilla and his beans and rice were both full orders. Not bad for $4.25.
Warren liked his carnitas and I was happy with my tacos, especially the plate full of sides—pico, sour cream, green chile sauce, etc. Jiro put down his crayons and asked if he could have some of my beans. I happily agreed and he eventually ate the whole thing in an effort to get clearance for a lollipop at the check-out counter.
While we were eating the waitress checked on us a bazillion times. We did not want for anything! I’d say that overall, while their menu items appear to be similar to other restaurants, they do their own portion sizes and slight variations, which seem to give everything a nice, homey touch.
Showing posts with label Kids Eat Free. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kids Eat Free. Show all posts
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Logan's Roadhouse
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new guest blogger! Courtney! She is best known as the editor of the (most awesome) Cooper-Young neighborhood newspaper, The Lamplighter. Let's give her a warm, dwm welcome!
Logan’s Roadhouse
2710 N. Germantown Pkwy
901-381-5254
For the last few months, my eyes have been drawn to the eye-catching sign hung outside the Logan’s Roadhouse next to Wolfchase. “12.99 Dinner for Two. Children’s Meals $2.” A quick confession, the Santo family is cheap (my husband would prefer I use the term frugal). This was a deal I wanted to try – a deal so good I might order two children’s meals instead of forcing my two and four year old to share. It is good only on Mondays and Tuesdays and I engineered a Memorial Day trip to the mall around suppertime.
“We could eat at the steakhouse,” I say casually as the kids play hide and seek in the racks of clothing at JC Penny. “They are supposed to have that deal.”
From deep in the racks of jeans I hear my youngest say, “French fries, nuggets.” This is followed by my daughter saying, “and chips, I want chips.”
After a long explanation about why I won’t allow a dinner of chips and French fries, we all agree to try the steakhouse. We pull in and realize it is pretty crowded, but this is a place with a giant tin bucket of peanuts in the middle of the waiting area. We get one of those fancy pagers and pull up a slice of bench next to a friendly older couple. The hostess, who is busy complaining that “they have the worst regulars ever” has told me 20-25 minutes, and having eaten out enough to know that’s what they always say, figure it will be 10-15 minutes.
I quickly realize that my two year old has no idea that you can’t eat peanut shells and after I finger-swipe a nasty bit of half eaten shell from my son’s mouth, I spend the next 15 minutes cracking peanuts and feeding them to the kids. That and the electronic jukebox keeps them pretty entertained – it helps that this is a place where they throw the peanut shells on the floor, so the level of good behavior expected is low.
Sooner than later we get seated and Brandy, our very efficient waitress shows up to take our drink orders. My husband is dying of thirst because he ate like 8,000 peanuts and he is happy his coke arrives quickly. We look over the $12.99 menu for two – basically you get your choice of one of the “Real American Road House Meals” and two sides. I look no further than the word “sirloin” while my husband hems and haws trying to decide between the fried catfish, grilled meatloaf and chopped sirloin steak. Once he finally decides on the grilled meatloaf, he has to pick two sides from a list of 14. We’re a pretty starchy group and I pick the mashed potatoes and French fries, while he goes with French fries and onion petals. Our daughter has decided on the Mac and Cheese, which is what she always gets and I’ve decided not to order a meal for my son, figuring he’ll just eat my French fries.
Brandy returns to take our order and at the last minute I decide to order the chicken strips kids meal for my son. It is only $2. The kids menu is pretty much what you’d expect – Chicken Tenders, Hot Dog, Hamburger, Grilled Cheese, Mac and Cheese, and Steak Tips. Each comes with fries and a drink. We didn’t substitute anything for the fries, but Brandy seemed confident that it could be done (say if Stacey wanted to pick the grilled veggie side instead).
In addition to the bucket of peanuts at our table, we also were given a basket of freshly baked rolls, which were good. The best table rolls I’ve ever had are at a place called the Golden Corral, which I think only exists in Virginia. So far I’m impressed with Logans. I thought we’d have to wait longer for rolls and to place our order because the place is packed. Lots of people around us seem to be waiting on their food and they were all there way ahead of us. But just minutes after the two or three tables around us get served, out comes our food.
I ordered my steak medium rare and it came out rare – but I didn’t send it back because I actually like it rare. But they checked to make sure I was happy and offered to re-cook it. I liked the pepper and salt seasonings on the steak – it was much simpler than the horror spice mix Outback uses. The fries were okay, a little limp and the mashed potatoes were delicious
My husband seemed to like the grilled meatloaf okay, he ate it all and the onion petal came with dipping sauce, which was nice. My daughter’s mac and cheese looked delicious and it was not Kraft (unlike at Boscos). She ate most everything, which is impressive, since she also filled up on peanuts and rolls. My son’s chicken tenders looked like classic Sysco fare, but he enjoyed them and his fries.
Brandy kept our drinks filled and gave us a second basket of rolls. She also didn’t mind a mid-meal decision to get Sprite instead of water for one of the kidlets. Our check came promptly – and was the real treat of the evening. Less than $25 with tip.
In summary, I would recommend Logan’s to meat lovers, anyone looking for a good deal, and folks who don’t mind a basic kid’s meal menu).
Logan’s Roadhouse
2710 N. Germantown Pkwy
901-381-5254
For the last few months, my eyes have been drawn to the eye-catching sign hung outside the Logan’s Roadhouse next to Wolfchase. “12.99 Dinner for Two. Children’s Meals $2.” A quick confession, the Santo family is cheap (my husband would prefer I use the term frugal). This was a deal I wanted to try – a deal so good I might order two children’s meals instead of forcing my two and four year old to share. It is good only on Mondays and Tuesdays and I engineered a Memorial Day trip to the mall around suppertime.
“We could eat at the steakhouse,” I say casually as the kids play hide and seek in the racks of clothing at JC Penny. “They are supposed to have that deal.”
From deep in the racks of jeans I hear my youngest say, “French fries, nuggets.” This is followed by my daughter saying, “and chips, I want chips.”
After a long explanation about why I won’t allow a dinner of chips and French fries, we all agree to try the steakhouse. We pull in and realize it is pretty crowded, but this is a place with a giant tin bucket of peanuts in the middle of the waiting area. We get one of those fancy pagers and pull up a slice of bench next to a friendly older couple. The hostess, who is busy complaining that “they have the worst regulars ever” has told me 20-25 minutes, and having eaten out enough to know that’s what they always say, figure it will be 10-15 minutes.
I quickly realize that my two year old has no idea that you can’t eat peanut shells and after I finger-swipe a nasty bit of half eaten shell from my son’s mouth, I spend the next 15 minutes cracking peanuts and feeding them to the kids. That and the electronic jukebox keeps them pretty entertained – it helps that this is a place where they throw the peanut shells on the floor, so the level of good behavior expected is low.
Sooner than later we get seated and Brandy, our very efficient waitress shows up to take our drink orders. My husband is dying of thirst because he ate like 8,000 peanuts and he is happy his coke arrives quickly. We look over the $12.99 menu for two – basically you get your choice of one of the “Real American Road House Meals” and two sides. I look no further than the word “sirloin” while my husband hems and haws trying to decide between the fried catfish, grilled meatloaf and chopped sirloin steak. Once he finally decides on the grilled meatloaf, he has to pick two sides from a list of 14. We’re a pretty starchy group and I pick the mashed potatoes and French fries, while he goes with French fries and onion petals. Our daughter has decided on the Mac and Cheese, which is what she always gets and I’ve decided not to order a meal for my son, figuring he’ll just eat my French fries.
Brandy returns to take our order and at the last minute I decide to order the chicken strips kids meal for my son. It is only $2. The kids menu is pretty much what you’d expect – Chicken Tenders, Hot Dog, Hamburger, Grilled Cheese, Mac and Cheese, and Steak Tips. Each comes with fries and a drink. We didn’t substitute anything for the fries, but Brandy seemed confident that it could be done (say if Stacey wanted to pick the grilled veggie side instead).
In addition to the bucket of peanuts at our table, we also were given a basket of freshly baked rolls, which were good. The best table rolls I’ve ever had are at a place called the Golden Corral, which I think only exists in Virginia. So far I’m impressed with Logans. I thought we’d have to wait longer for rolls and to place our order because the place is packed. Lots of people around us seem to be waiting on their food and they were all there way ahead of us. But just minutes after the two or three tables around us get served, out comes our food.
I ordered my steak medium rare and it came out rare – but I didn’t send it back because I actually like it rare. But they checked to make sure I was happy and offered to re-cook it. I liked the pepper and salt seasonings on the steak – it was much simpler than the horror spice mix Outback uses. The fries were okay, a little limp and the mashed potatoes were delicious
My husband seemed to like the grilled meatloaf okay, he ate it all and the onion petal came with dipping sauce, which was nice. My daughter’s mac and cheese looked delicious and it was not Kraft (unlike at Boscos). She ate most everything, which is impressive, since she also filled up on peanuts and rolls. My son’s chicken tenders looked like classic Sysco fare, but he enjoyed them and his fries.
Brandy kept our drinks filled and gave us a second basket of rolls. She also didn’t mind a mid-meal decision to get Sprite instead of water for one of the kidlets. Our check came promptly – and was the real treat of the evening. Less than $25 with tip.
In summary, I would recommend Logan’s to meat lovers, anyone looking for a good deal, and folks who don’t mind a basic kid’s meal menu).
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The American Cafe
An installment from the increasingly pregnant and hungry Andria.
The American Cafe
2055 West St # 20
Germantown, TN
We get demented when we’re hungry. It happens to every single person in our family. Miss M (age 4) wakes up in the morning like a rabid timberwolf, screeching and thrashing and making weird hissing noises until she’s given her bowl of dry oatmeal and 1.5 teaspoons (okay, tablespoons) of brown sugar. She comes by this foodborne madness honestly, as both The Admiral and I turn into deeply irrational creatures when our blood sugar gets low.
All this is in the way of explaining how we found ourselves at American Cafe in Germantown on a Friday night. It’s hard for me to remember what all led up to the decision, being so close to a coma at the time, but I’m pretty sure we tossed out our usual suggestions (namely Huey’s, Los Compadres, The Admiral’s beloved Chili’s) along with a smattering of other ideas, none of which could satisfy my finicky pregnant palate as well as provide The Admiral with his pined-for tiny loaf of bread and garlic butter. So even though it was well past 6pm on a Friday evening, and therefore only an hour from Miss M’s bath time, we headed down I-40, into the widening darkness, toward a Germantown strip mall.
We arrived and saw a crowd gathered in the entryway, which caused us concern, but it turned out to just be a group of Germantowners who clearly had nowhere else to hang out. We were seated at a very convenient booth at the end of the room, so our increasingly deranged child wouldn’t be in anyone’s face but mine. It took a surprisingly long time to get our drink orders taken, so we were sure to have our food requests ready by the time our waitress returned with beverages and the long-awaited bread, nearly all of which was consumed by Miss M within 45 seconds.
We ordered either the spinach con queso or the artichoke dip (I’m pretty sure the former, but again, I wasn’t thinking all that clearly and I could be remembering the wrong cheesy appetizer. That held us over and kept Miss M distracted until the real food arrived. I’d ordered macaroni and cheese for the child, with a side order of broccoli that I incorrectly assumed was included in the price of the meal (the list of non-fry sides apparently only applies on dishes where fries are included). We were charged $2 for the barely touched veggies, yet never received the Teddy Grahams that definitely were supposed to be included. (Oh, and for the record, that “kids eat free” deal that the now-closed Wolfchase location offered is not applicable in the Saddle Creek restaurant.)
My dinner was the chicken parmesan sandwich, and wow, was it unpleasant. The chicken was just a regular overcooked boneless breast thrown onto a burned yet soggy roll that was clearly not designed to hold meat of that shape or weight. I’m really not sure what The Admiral had, but he ate all of it. Of course, he would eat his own left hand if it were covered in Philly cheese sauce. Especially since the waitress made up for her initial tardiness by refilling his Diet Coke no fewer than 8 times.
How any eating got done at all is a mystery, however, since Miss M had by this point completely rebelled against the entire concept of dining out and was spending her time throwing crayons at us, sticking her hands in the uneaten macaroni and trying desperately to climb out of the booth using only my shoulders for leverage. It was hard to keep ourselves calm, but it was also pretty hard to blame her. We were the ones who dragged her out to dinner right at bedtime, after all. So while I tried to keep her from disturbing anyone not genetically responsible for her, I did accept the brunt of her attitude with resignation and the standard amount of maternal guilt.
After a typically harried bathroom break and much accusatory sighing, The Admiral removed Miss M from the scene as I poked at my last few bites and paid the bill. They were having some sort of discipline-related conference as I got to the parking lot, and we completed our evening with a very quiet drive back to Midtown. Sorry to anyone we may have frightened or bothered. We plead temporary insanity.
The American Cafe
2055 West St # 20
Germantown, TN
We get demented when we’re hungry. It happens to every single person in our family. Miss M (age 4) wakes up in the morning like a rabid timberwolf, screeching and thrashing and making weird hissing noises until she’s given her bowl of dry oatmeal and 1.5 teaspoons (okay, tablespoons) of brown sugar. She comes by this foodborne madness honestly, as both The Admiral and I turn into deeply irrational creatures when our blood sugar gets low.
All this is in the way of explaining how we found ourselves at American Cafe in Germantown on a Friday night. It’s hard for me to remember what all led up to the decision, being so close to a coma at the time, but I’m pretty sure we tossed out our usual suggestions (namely Huey’s, Los Compadres, The Admiral’s beloved Chili’s) along with a smattering of other ideas, none of which could satisfy my finicky pregnant palate as well as provide The Admiral with his pined-for tiny loaf of bread and garlic butter. So even though it was well past 6pm on a Friday evening, and therefore only an hour from Miss M’s bath time, we headed down I-40, into the widening darkness, toward a Germantown strip mall.
We arrived and saw a crowd gathered in the entryway, which caused us concern, but it turned out to just be a group of Germantowners who clearly had nowhere else to hang out. We were seated at a very convenient booth at the end of the room, so our increasingly deranged child wouldn’t be in anyone’s face but mine. It took a surprisingly long time to get our drink orders taken, so we were sure to have our food requests ready by the time our waitress returned with beverages and the long-awaited bread, nearly all of which was consumed by Miss M within 45 seconds.
We ordered either the spinach con queso or the artichoke dip (I’m pretty sure the former, but again, I wasn’t thinking all that clearly and I could be remembering the wrong cheesy appetizer. That held us over and kept Miss M distracted until the real food arrived. I’d ordered macaroni and cheese for the child, with a side order of broccoli that I incorrectly assumed was included in the price of the meal (the list of non-fry sides apparently only applies on dishes where fries are included). We were charged $2 for the barely touched veggies, yet never received the Teddy Grahams that definitely were supposed to be included. (Oh, and for the record, that “kids eat free” deal that the now-closed Wolfchase location offered is not applicable in the Saddle Creek restaurant.)
My dinner was the chicken parmesan sandwich, and wow, was it unpleasant. The chicken was just a regular overcooked boneless breast thrown onto a burned yet soggy roll that was clearly not designed to hold meat of that shape or weight. I’m really not sure what The Admiral had, but he ate all of it. Of course, he would eat his own left hand if it were covered in Philly cheese sauce. Especially since the waitress made up for her initial tardiness by refilling his Diet Coke no fewer than 8 times.
How any eating got done at all is a mystery, however, since Miss M had by this point completely rebelled against the entire concept of dining out and was spending her time throwing crayons at us, sticking her hands in the uneaten macaroni and trying desperately to climb out of the booth using only my shoulders for leverage. It was hard to keep ourselves calm, but it was also pretty hard to blame her. We were the ones who dragged her out to dinner right at bedtime, after all. So while I tried to keep her from disturbing anyone not genetically responsible for her, I did accept the brunt of her attitude with resignation and the standard amount of maternal guilt.
After a typically harried bathroom break and much accusatory sighing, The Admiral removed Miss M from the scene as I poked at my last few bites and paid the bill. They were having some sort of discipline-related conference as I got to the parking lot, and we completed our evening with a very quiet drive back to Midtown. Sorry to anyone we may have frightened or bothered. We plead temporary insanity.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Central BBQ
Ed. Note: Central BBQ on Summer now offers Kids Eat Free nights every Monday and Tuesday. Both locations are certified by Project Green Fork.
Central BBQ
4375 Summer Avenue
767.4672
A couple Saturdays ago, Warren and I found ourselves not wanting to cook after a long day of home improvements and monkey wrangling. I really wanted to go to the hibachi at A-Tan, as did Satchel (age 4), but Warren very astutely pointed out that 1) A-Tan is a little pricey, 2) 7:30pm on a Saturday night is not a good time to take the monkeys and 3) although Satchel was a dream come true on our last visit, Jiro (age 2) and the service were a nightmare.
“Okay, so how about Nagasaki?” I asked. “We could get a coupon and they are pretty kid-friendly...”
He gave me a look that said, I just spent eight hours working on the roof so we can sell the house like you want so you better start naming places I like.
“I know,” I said. “Why don’t we try the new Central BBQ on Summer? You’ve been wanting to go there, right?”
I did not say, “Even though we hardly ever go to the one that is only a mile away…”
Or maybe I did.
I had decided to take one for the team, Team Oster that is, but I hadn’t decided to have a good attitude about it.
We loaded up the monkeys, who were anything but thrilled about eating BBQ, and headed down everyone’s favorite avenue. For some reason I was driving which meant Warren was already on edge, so when I drove right past the restaurant and had to then turn left back onto Summer through lots of traffic, he was not happy.
Additionally, Jiro was now sound asleep.
We pulled into a very crowded parking lot, but had two things going for us. 1) A temporary handicapped-parking decal and 2) the knowledge that the new restaurant was about five times the size of the original restaurant.
When I saw that we had to order at the counter and then wait for our food at a table, I got annoyed all over again. (I had forgotten this aspect of the Central BBQ experience.) I sat down on a bench with an almost awake Jiro while Warren perused the menu.
“What should I get the kids?” he asked.
I looked at the kids’ menu…Grilled Cheese, Hot Dog, Jr. BBQ, Chicken, Mac N’Cheese…and said, “It doesn’t matter considering it’s all crap.” Or something like that. Maybe it was, “Looks like they’re in for another healthy dinner.”
Thankfully he ignored me and asked the monkeys directly. “Hot dog!” said Satchel. Jiro just gave him a glazed expression.
“Get them the same thing so there’s no fighting,” I recommended.
Next, I needed to decide what I wanted. Hot wings or BBQ Nachos…hmmm…either way I wasn’t getting anything remotely healthy myself. I briefly considered ordering a salad, but I knew that this was not the establishment for that. I pictured a plate of nutrient deficient iceberg lettuce and opted to go for the BBQ Nachos. When in Rome…
Warren ordered a pork plate and $29.50 later, we went in search of a table. It didn’t take much poking around to realize that about half of the restaurant was closed off and that there were only two small rooms with tables or a bar area to choose from. We were looking for a booth, but the only options were a really big circular one or a half booth/half table that was turned sideways and therefore defeated the purpose of sitting in a booth.
(For those of you who don’t know, the purpose of sitting in a booth is to trap the monkeys next to the wall so that they cannot escape and throw bananas at other diners.)
We opted for a four top as far away from other diners as possible. Once settled, I uprooted the monkeys and headed towards the self-service drink machine. Oh how they love the self-service drink machine! (Each monkey received a free drink with his $4.25 hot dog.) Jiro, of course, went for the red punch option, but I was able to lure him towards the lemonade. Satchel, in a bold move, asked for Root Beer. I acquiesced and hoped (rather than confirmed) that the brand on tap was caffeine free. (I recently learned that some are not.)
Back at the table, I was thrilled to discover that our food was already ready. “Okay, now I will cheer up,” I announced. Fast service always makes me happy.
My plate of nachos was absolutely gigantic, which didn’t hurt either. Warren seemed pleased by his large helping of pork and the monkeys went to work on their hot dogs. Warren had ordered fries for Satchel and mac n’cheese for Jiro. Surprisingly we only had to ask that they share the fries in order for them to do so. They also shared the mac n’cheese, but it wasn’t nearly as popular as the fries.
In fact, the fries were so popular that I soon found myself trading Satchel chips with cheese (but no pork or sauce) for them. Jiro also wanted some chips. Then they each had a small bite of pork. Jiro ate almost all of his hot dog and Satchel ate his entire weenie with a little prodding from me. (Note to Chip and/or RJA: please don’t read too much into that last sentence.)
Somewhere during the meal, Satchel and Jiro both needed to pee. Warren did the first round with Satchel and I later took Jiro. It appeared as though the bathrooms had been re-done and they were clean enough for me not to remember any detail in particular. In fact, the whole restaurant was somewhat forgettable. It didn’t seem like a Red Lobster anymore, but it didn’t seem to have a very strong character of its own. It didn’t seem for lack of trying. The owners hung folksy paintings on the wall and were clearly going for a distinctively Memphis feel. Individually the paintings were nice—I especially liked the one depicting the Memphis in May BBQ team that included R2D2 and Princess Leia and the one of a guitarist that featured a 3-D arm jutting out from the canvas—but they were simply drowned out by the wood paneling.
I think it was wood paneling.
Anyways, back to the table. Warren, of course, was the last to finish his dinner. And mine. And the monkeys’. Jiro did a little unsupervised running off towards the self-serve drink machine and Satchel did his share of squirming in his chair. They probably even attempted to build a fort under the table, but I was pretty successful at squashing any attempts at a full mutiny.
We all left happy and everything at our table was still in one piece, although probably sticky. I would have been really happy had the boys gotten a little vegetable action and if the check was a bit smaller, but all in all it was an enjoyable experience.
Central BBQ
4375 Summer Avenue
767.4672
A couple Saturdays ago, Warren and I found ourselves not wanting to cook after a long day of home improvements and monkey wrangling. I really wanted to go to the hibachi at A-Tan, as did Satchel (age 4), but Warren very astutely pointed out that 1) A-Tan is a little pricey, 2) 7:30pm on a Saturday night is not a good time to take the monkeys and 3) although Satchel was a dream come true on our last visit, Jiro (age 2) and the service were a nightmare.
“Okay, so how about Nagasaki?” I asked. “We could get a coupon and they are pretty kid-friendly...”
He gave me a look that said, I just spent eight hours working on the roof so we can sell the house like you want so you better start naming places I like.
“I know,” I said. “Why don’t we try the new Central BBQ on Summer? You’ve been wanting to go there, right?”
I did not say, “Even though we hardly ever go to the one that is only a mile away…”
Or maybe I did.
I had decided to take one for the team, Team Oster that is, but I hadn’t decided to have a good attitude about it.
We loaded up the monkeys, who were anything but thrilled about eating BBQ, and headed down everyone’s favorite avenue. For some reason I was driving which meant Warren was already on edge, so when I drove right past the restaurant and had to then turn left back onto Summer through lots of traffic, he was not happy.
Additionally, Jiro was now sound asleep.
We pulled into a very crowded parking lot, but had two things going for us. 1) A temporary handicapped-parking decal and 2) the knowledge that the new restaurant was about five times the size of the original restaurant.
When I saw that we had to order at the counter and then wait for our food at a table, I got annoyed all over again. (I had forgotten this aspect of the Central BBQ experience.) I sat down on a bench with an almost awake Jiro while Warren perused the menu.
“What should I get the kids?” he asked.
I looked at the kids’ menu…Grilled Cheese, Hot Dog, Jr. BBQ, Chicken, Mac N’Cheese…and said, “It doesn’t matter considering it’s all crap.” Or something like that. Maybe it was, “Looks like they’re in for another healthy dinner.”
Thankfully he ignored me and asked the monkeys directly. “Hot dog!” said Satchel. Jiro just gave him a glazed expression.
“Get them the same thing so there’s no fighting,” I recommended.
Next, I needed to decide what I wanted. Hot wings or BBQ Nachos…hmmm…either way I wasn’t getting anything remotely healthy myself. I briefly considered ordering a salad, but I knew that this was not the establishment for that. I pictured a plate of nutrient deficient iceberg lettuce and opted to go for the BBQ Nachos. When in Rome…
Warren ordered a pork plate and $29.50 later, we went in search of a table. It didn’t take much poking around to realize that about half of the restaurant was closed off and that there were only two small rooms with tables or a bar area to choose from. We were looking for a booth, but the only options were a really big circular one or a half booth/half table that was turned sideways and therefore defeated the purpose of sitting in a booth.
(For those of you who don’t know, the purpose of sitting in a booth is to trap the monkeys next to the wall so that they cannot escape and throw bananas at other diners.)
We opted for a four top as far away from other diners as possible. Once settled, I uprooted the monkeys and headed towards the self-service drink machine. Oh how they love the self-service drink machine! (Each monkey received a free drink with his $4.25 hot dog.) Jiro, of course, went for the red punch option, but I was able to lure him towards the lemonade. Satchel, in a bold move, asked for Root Beer. I acquiesced and hoped (rather than confirmed) that the brand on tap was caffeine free. (I recently learned that some are not.)
Back at the table, I was thrilled to discover that our food was already ready. “Okay, now I will cheer up,” I announced. Fast service always makes me happy.
My plate of nachos was absolutely gigantic, which didn’t hurt either. Warren seemed pleased by his large helping of pork and the monkeys went to work on their hot dogs. Warren had ordered fries for Satchel and mac n’cheese for Jiro. Surprisingly we only had to ask that they share the fries in order for them to do so. They also shared the mac n’cheese, but it wasn’t nearly as popular as the fries.
In fact, the fries were so popular that I soon found myself trading Satchel chips with cheese (but no pork or sauce) for them. Jiro also wanted some chips. Then they each had a small bite of pork. Jiro ate almost all of his hot dog and Satchel ate his entire weenie with a little prodding from me. (Note to Chip and/or RJA: please don’t read too much into that last sentence.)
Somewhere during the meal, Satchel and Jiro both needed to pee. Warren did the first round with Satchel and I later took Jiro. It appeared as though the bathrooms had been re-done and they were clean enough for me not to remember any detail in particular. In fact, the whole restaurant was somewhat forgettable. It didn’t seem like a Red Lobster anymore, but it didn’t seem to have a very strong character of its own. It didn’t seem for lack of trying. The owners hung folksy paintings on the wall and were clearly going for a distinctively Memphis feel. Individually the paintings were nice—I especially liked the one depicting the Memphis in May BBQ team that included R2D2 and Princess Leia and the one of a guitarist that featured a 3-D arm jutting out from the canvas—but they were simply drowned out by the wood paneling.
I think it was wood paneling.
Anyways, back to the table. Warren, of course, was the last to finish his dinner. And mine. And the monkeys’. Jiro did a little unsupervised running off towards the self-serve drink machine and Satchel did his share of squirming in his chair. They probably even attempted to build a fort under the table, but I was pretty successful at squashing any attempts at a full mutiny.
We all left happy and everything at our table was still in one piece, although probably sticky. I would have been really happy had the boys gotten a little vegetable action and if the check was a bit smaller, but all in all it was an enjoyable experience.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Checker's
The unedited "day seven" of Do French Fries Make You Strong?
Checker's
Poplar near Highland
5 cheeseburgers and 5 shakes: $6.68
I noticed the ".69 Cheeseburgers, shakes, hot dogs, Wed & Sun" sign last week after eating at CiCi's. I've never been to Checker's before, but I figured that had to be a pretty good deal. Since I was on the last day of my "kids eat free" week, I hadn't eaten all day, and I just happened to have a car full of kids, I decided to try it out.
"Who wants a milk shake?" I asked the monkeys (Satchel, 4, and Jiro, 2) and their two cousins (Sutton, 6, and Branch, 9).
"Me! Me! I do! Me!" they responded.
"Anybody want a cheeseburger?"
"Yes! I do! Yes! Yes!" they responded.
I pulled up to the window and said, "I'll take 5 chocolate shakes and 5 cheeseburgers."
"I want vanilla," my nephew said.
"Me too!" said my niece.
"And me!" said Satchel.
Before Jiro could chime in, I ammended the order. "Make that four vanilla milkshakes and one chocolate. And five cheeseburgers." I thought for a second. "Make four of those plain. No just ketchup."
"I like ketchup and mustard," my nephew said.
"Okay four with ketchup and mustard and one with everything," I said.
The voice in the box was annoyed and confused, but we got it right.
"Can I have French fries?" my nephew asked.
"There will be no French fries," I said.
I pulled up to the second window and handed over my $6.68. I felt pretty awesome for treating everyone to burgers and shakes for less than $7.00.
The dude handed me the shakes and I immediately began putting the straws in. "It's kind of small," my nephew said.
"Well it's 12oz more than you had a minute ago."
He couldn't argue with that logic. I passed them around, got my change, and put the sack of cheeseburgers on the floor. "No burgers til we get home," I said.
"Why?" they asked.
"Because you will make a mess," I said.
I pulled onto Poplar and headed home. By the time we got to East Parkway, I had finished my shake and was ready for my burger.
"Why do you get to eat yours?" my nephew asked.
"Because I'm the driver," I said.
"Well then you really shouldn't eat it if you are the driver," he said.
Before I could say anything to dispute him, my niece said, "She can drive with her other hand."
"That's right," I said between bites.
When we got in the house, my nephew sat down and ate his burger. My niece said she'd take hers home with her. Satchel said he wanted a hamburger not a cheeseburger. Jiro ran towards the DVD player and showed no interest in eating his. (They had been eating all morning at my mom's house.) So I ate Jiro's and left Satchel's on the table in case he changed his mind, which he did about two hours later.
Checker's
Poplar near Highland
5 cheeseburgers and 5 shakes: $6.68
I noticed the ".69 Cheeseburgers, shakes, hot dogs, Wed & Sun" sign last week after eating at CiCi's. I've never been to Checker's before, but I figured that had to be a pretty good deal. Since I was on the last day of my "kids eat free" week, I hadn't eaten all day, and I just happened to have a car full of kids, I decided to try it out.
"Who wants a milk shake?" I asked the monkeys (Satchel, 4, and Jiro, 2) and their two cousins (Sutton, 6, and Branch, 9).
"Me! Me! I do! Me!" they responded.
"Anybody want a cheeseburger?"
"Yes! I do! Yes! Yes!" they responded.
I pulled up to the window and said, "I'll take 5 chocolate shakes and 5 cheeseburgers."
"I want vanilla," my nephew said.
"Me too!" said my niece.
"And me!" said Satchel.
Before Jiro could chime in, I ammended the order. "Make that four vanilla milkshakes and one chocolate. And five cheeseburgers." I thought for a second. "Make four of those plain. No just ketchup."
"I like ketchup and mustard," my nephew said.
"Okay four with ketchup and mustard and one with everything," I said.
The voice in the box was annoyed and confused, but we got it right.
"Can I have French fries?" my nephew asked.
"There will be no French fries," I said.
I pulled up to the second window and handed over my $6.68. I felt pretty awesome for treating everyone to burgers and shakes for less than $7.00.
The dude handed me the shakes and I immediately began putting the straws in. "It's kind of small," my nephew said.
"Well it's 12oz more than you had a minute ago."
He couldn't argue with that logic. I passed them around, got my change, and put the sack of cheeseburgers on the floor. "No burgers til we get home," I said.
"Why?" they asked.
"Because you will make a mess," I said.
I pulled onto Poplar and headed home. By the time we got to East Parkway, I had finished my shake and was ready for my burger.
"Why do you get to eat yours?" my nephew asked.
"Because I'm the driver," I said.
"Well then you really shouldn't eat it if you are the driver," he said.
Before I could say anything to dispute him, my niece said, "She can drive with her other hand."
"That's right," I said between bites.
When we got in the house, my nephew sat down and ate his burger. My niece said she'd take hers home with her. Satchel said he wanted a hamburger not a cheeseburger. Jiro ran towards the DVD player and showed no interest in eating his. (They had been eating all morning at my mom's house.) So I ate Jiro's and left Satchel's on the table in case he changed his mind, which he did about two hours later.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Hooter's (Yes, Hooter's)
This location has closed since the writing of this review. There's still a Hooter's downtown, but they do not offer a kids eat free day.
The unedited "day six" (there was no "day five") of Do French Fries Make You Strong?
Hooter's
2653 Mt. Moriah
(901) 795-7123
Satchel (age 4): Kid's Wings $0
Jiro (age 2): Kid's Hot Dog $0
Warren (Of course I waited for Warren to come back in town): Buffalo Chicken Sandwich &7.29 and Fries $1.99
Me: Hooter's Cobb Salad $7.49
2 Kid's Lemonades $1.98
Total (with tax) $21.04
with tip: $27.04 (good service deserves a good tip!)
The minute we pulled into the Hooter's parking lot I had a What the hell am I doing? moment. I mean, was this the ultimate in kidzploitation or what? I took a deep breath and led the monkeys inside.
I hadn't prepped them at all about what kind of restaurant we were going to. I was curious to see if they would pick up on anything "different" themselves. They knew that a photographer was coming, but that was it. (Having grown up with a camera in their faces and with a mother who often has their pictures published, this didn't seem very unusual to them.) Of course, I was secretly hoping for some funny, off the cuff comments.
At 1:30, Hooter's had a pretty decent crowd. I'd say there were twenty to thirty men of various ages parked in front of a wall of TVs. Most of them were drinking beer and just hangin'. I was the only woman present (not on staff, that is) and we seemed to be the only people taking advantage of the "kids eat free on Saturdays" offer. There was a giant gumball machine right inside the door that occupied the monkeys' attention and they noticed little else. I admired the huge merchandise area and took deep breaths until a nice, scantily clad waitress informed us that we could sit anywhere we wanted and that the kids ate for free.
I grabbed a highchair from as stack of five or so and headed to a table that wasn't near anyone else. I noticed each table had a full roll of paper towels on it...presumably for wiping "hot sauce" off of "fingers." The waitress, Emily, came over with paper kids menus and crayons and took our drink order. Jiro asked for "Juis" and she informed us that lemonade was the closest thing they had to juice. No problem. I read the kids menu upside down from Jiro's placemat as he began coloring. I read aloud to the monkeys: "Chicken wings, chicken strips, burger, grilled cheese, hot dog, PB&J, fish & chips (all with curly fries for just $2.99). What do yall want?"
"Fish & chips!" Satchel said.
"Hot dog!" Jiro said.
"Nobody wants chicken? They are famous for chicken!" I said.
"Okay I'll take chicken strips," Satchel said.
"Why not try the chicken wings with bones?" I prodded.
"Okay," he said most agreeably. (He was utterly rapt up in the activities on his menu.)
Next I set about figuring out what I was going to eat. Thanks to the buxom ladies decorating my menu, everything looked good. (I also noticed that Warren was taking an unusually long time to order. Hmmm...) I was pretty wary of ordering seafood and I didn't want wings. Finally, I decided on the Hooter's Cobb salad. I thought for sure that Warren would get the wings, but he went for the chicken breast sandwich ("Hold the chicken and the sandwich," as Steve Carrell would say).
J, the (vegetarian) photographer arrived and confirmed that he wasn't planning to eat, said hi to the monkeys, shook hands with Warren, and set off to get the manager's permission to take photos.
I noticed that most of waitresses weren't really flaunting their "hooters." The "look" seemed to center on extremely skimpy orange shorts. (Panties might be more apropos.) To finish the look, they all hand on brown pantyhose that reminded me of the L'eggs my grandmother used to buy at Walgreen's. Emily had several runs in her L'eggs emanating from her left butt cheek.
J returned and said the manager had to call "corporate headquarters." By now we had ordered and the monkeys were happily slurping on their lemonades (in styrofoam cups). Jiro was especially interested in J's photo equipment and made it clear that he was ready to assist at anytime.
A few minutes later, J got the okay to start shooting and he got several shots of the monkeys with their restaurant supplied kid props. Jiro was totally mugging for the camera like he was a paid model. The picture taking attracted much attention and several waitresses inquired if it was Jiro's birthday. "Yes," I said.
"Is he two?" the asked sweetly.
"Yes," I said, trying not to laugh.
"Should we get some balloons?"
"No, no that's okay."
I know I have no room to point fingers, but bringing a two-year-old to Hooter's for his birthday!? Are you serious?
Our food came out pretty swiftly and J asked Emily to do a little one-on-one with Jiro. Several times she bent down and put his plate in front of him, while J shot away. Each time she took it away to try again, Jiro tried to grab a curly fry off the plate. J finally got a good shot and we all commenced eating. Both monkeys were enamored by the curly fries and held each one up to show us how cool they were before gobbling them up. Warren's chicken breast was enormous (just the way he likes them) and was literally falling off the bun. My cobb salad, with buffalo chicken, was actually rather delicious.
I tried to get Satchel to eat his wings, but he said they were too hot. Jiro took his hot dog out of the bun and squawked when he saw the white pieces of bun sticking to it. Warren removed them and he ate a few bites before chucking it across the table.
J, satisfied with his shots, left us to finish the meal on our own. Once he was out the door, Satchel said, "I need to poop." Warren actually offered to take him, and Jiro insisted on joining them, so I had a good minute and a half to enjoy my salad before they all returned and Warren said, "You better take them, the men's room is packed."
I thought that was pretty hilarious.
We headed to the women's room where everything was nice and quiet. Satchel went in one stall (with a built in changing table) and Jiro went in the other. Thankfully they were both quick and as I was zipping Jiro up a waitress came in. She smiled at the monkeys and was as nice as she could be. I thought of striking up a conversation with her, but chickened out.
Back at the table it took awhile to get the check because the manager had to okay the freebies. I decided to ask him why they offered a kids' eat free day since none of the other Hooter's did.
"Uh, I don't know. I can call corporate," he said.
I realized he was maybe nineteen-years-old and a little freaked out. "Uh, okay," I said.
He started walking away and then (feeling embarrassed) turned back. "This store was opened by a guy with four kids. I think he started it. The manager now has one kid and one on the way. It's good for business and good for the community. Not everyone around here is that well off, so it helps people afford to eat out."
Okay, that sounded good. "Do a lot of people take advantage of the offer?" I asked since I hadn't seen any other kids.
"Oh yeah," he said. We had about six kids in here earlier and there will be more as the day goes on."
I thanked him, gave our waitress a huge-ish tip, and headed towards the car. As I was leaving I noticed two men each with a pre-teen son coming in.
I joined the boys who were already strapped in their carseats. "Did you like that restaurant?" I asked.
"Yes!" they hollered.
"What did you like best?"
"The curly fries!"
And there you have it. I guess they're not breast men after all.
The unedited "day six" (there was no "day five") of Do French Fries Make You Strong?
Hooter's
2653 Mt. Moriah
(901) 795-7123
Satchel (age 4): Kid's Wings $0
Jiro (age 2): Kid's Hot Dog $0
Warren (Of course I waited for Warren to come back in town): Buffalo Chicken Sandwich &7.29 and Fries $1.99
Me: Hooter's Cobb Salad $7.49
2 Kid's Lemonades $1.98
Total (with tax) $21.04
with tip: $27.04 (good service deserves a good tip!)
The minute we pulled into the Hooter's parking lot I had a What the hell am I doing? moment. I mean, was this the ultimate in kidzploitation or what? I took a deep breath and led the monkeys inside.
I hadn't prepped them at all about what kind of restaurant we were going to. I was curious to see if they would pick up on anything "different" themselves. They knew that a photographer was coming, but that was it. (Having grown up with a camera in their faces and with a mother who often has their pictures published, this didn't seem very unusual to them.) Of course, I was secretly hoping for some funny, off the cuff comments.
At 1:30, Hooter's had a pretty decent crowd. I'd say there were twenty to thirty men of various ages parked in front of a wall of TVs. Most of them were drinking beer and just hangin'. I was the only woman present (not on staff, that is) and we seemed to be the only people taking advantage of the "kids eat free on Saturdays" offer. There was a giant gumball machine right inside the door that occupied the monkeys' attention and they noticed little else. I admired the huge merchandise area and took deep breaths until a nice, scantily clad waitress informed us that we could sit anywhere we wanted and that the kids ate for free.
I grabbed a highchair from as stack of five or so and headed to a table that wasn't near anyone else. I noticed each table had a full roll of paper towels on it...presumably for wiping "hot sauce" off of "fingers." The waitress, Emily, came over with paper kids menus and crayons and took our drink order. Jiro asked for "Juis" and she informed us that lemonade was the closest thing they had to juice. No problem. I read the kids menu upside down from Jiro's placemat as he began coloring. I read aloud to the monkeys: "Chicken wings, chicken strips, burger, grilled cheese, hot dog, PB&J, fish & chips (all with curly fries for just $2.99). What do yall want?"
"Fish & chips!" Satchel said.
"Hot dog!" Jiro said.
"Nobody wants chicken? They are famous for chicken!" I said.
"Okay I'll take chicken strips," Satchel said.
"Why not try the chicken wings with bones?" I prodded.
"Okay," he said most agreeably. (He was utterly rapt up in the activities on his menu.)
Next I set about figuring out what I was going to eat. Thanks to the buxom ladies decorating my menu, everything looked good. (I also noticed that Warren was taking an unusually long time to order. Hmmm...) I was pretty wary of ordering seafood and I didn't want wings. Finally, I decided on the Hooter's Cobb salad. I thought for sure that Warren would get the wings, but he went for the chicken breast sandwich ("Hold the chicken and the sandwich," as Steve Carrell would say).
J, the (vegetarian) photographer arrived and confirmed that he wasn't planning to eat, said hi to the monkeys, shook hands with Warren, and set off to get the manager's permission to take photos.
I noticed that most of waitresses weren't really flaunting their "hooters." The "look" seemed to center on extremely skimpy orange shorts. (Panties might be more apropos.) To finish the look, they all hand on brown pantyhose that reminded me of the L'eggs my grandmother used to buy at Walgreen's. Emily had several runs in her L'eggs emanating from her left butt cheek.
J returned and said the manager had to call "corporate headquarters." By now we had ordered and the monkeys were happily slurping on their lemonades (in styrofoam cups). Jiro was especially interested in J's photo equipment and made it clear that he was ready to assist at anytime.
A few minutes later, J got the okay to start shooting and he got several shots of the monkeys with their restaurant supplied kid props. Jiro was totally mugging for the camera like he was a paid model. The picture taking attracted much attention and several waitresses inquired if it was Jiro's birthday. "Yes," I said.
"Is he two?" the asked sweetly.
"Yes," I said, trying not to laugh.
"Should we get some balloons?"
"No, no that's okay."
I know I have no room to point fingers, but bringing a two-year-old to Hooter's for his birthday!? Are you serious?
Our food came out pretty swiftly and J asked Emily to do a little one-on-one with Jiro. Several times she bent down and put his plate in front of him, while J shot away. Each time she took it away to try again, Jiro tried to grab a curly fry off the plate. J finally got a good shot and we all commenced eating. Both monkeys were enamored by the curly fries and held each one up to show us how cool they were before gobbling them up. Warren's chicken breast was enormous (just the way he likes them) and was literally falling off the bun. My cobb salad, with buffalo chicken, was actually rather delicious.
I tried to get Satchel to eat his wings, but he said they were too hot. Jiro took his hot dog out of the bun and squawked when he saw the white pieces of bun sticking to it. Warren removed them and he ate a few bites before chucking it across the table.
J, satisfied with his shots, left us to finish the meal on our own. Once he was out the door, Satchel said, "I need to poop." Warren actually offered to take him, and Jiro insisted on joining them, so I had a good minute and a half to enjoy my salad before they all returned and Warren said, "You better take them, the men's room is packed."
I thought that was pretty hilarious.
We headed to the women's room where everything was nice and quiet. Satchel went in one stall (with a built in changing table) and Jiro went in the other. Thankfully they were both quick and as I was zipping Jiro up a waitress came in. She smiled at the monkeys and was as nice as she could be. I thought of striking up a conversation with her, but chickened out.
Back at the table it took awhile to get the check because the manager had to okay the freebies. I decided to ask him why they offered a kids' eat free day since none of the other Hooter's did.
"Uh, I don't know. I can call corporate," he said.
I realized he was maybe nineteen-years-old and a little freaked out. "Uh, okay," I said.
He started walking away and then (feeling embarrassed) turned back. "This store was opened by a guy with four kids. I think he started it. The manager now has one kid and one on the way. It's good for business and good for the community. Not everyone around here is that well off, so it helps people afford to eat out."
Okay, that sounded good. "Do a lot of people take advantage of the offer?" I asked since I hadn't seen any other kids.
"Oh yeah," he said. We had about six kids in here earlier and there will be more as the day goes on."
I thanked him, gave our waitress a huge-ish tip, and headed towards the car. As I was leaving I noticed two men each with a pre-teen son coming in.
I joined the boys who were already strapped in their carseats. "Did you like that restaurant?" I asked.
"Yes!" they hollered.
"What did you like best?"
"The curly fries!"
And there you have it. I guess they're not breast men after all.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Piccadilly
The unedited "day four" of Do French Fries Make You Strong?
Picadilly
3425 Poplar Avenue
(901)324-6442
Kids eat for $.99 every Thursday (Unless they select "big kid" entrees, then it's $1.99)
Satchel (age 4) Kid's Meal (fried chicken, mashed potatoes, broccoli, pudding, drink) $.99
Jiro (age 2) Kid's Meal (fried chicken, macaroni & cheese, broccoli, cupcake, drink) $.99
My Dilly Dish (fried catfish, green beans, black eyed peas, roll) $5.99
Total $8.71
Tip $2.00
Andria caught wind of my "kids eat free" spree and emailed me to see what I had in store for Thursday. Unsure of what exactly Piccadilly was, she asked, "Do they have country fried steak?" I told her it was a very good possibility and she replied that she and Miss M (age 3) would meet us at 6:00pm. At the boys' school I ran into our mutual friend, Shiloh, and invited her and her daughter, Lydia (age 2), along too. The more the merrier!
We arrived to find the place bustling. Lots of kids, lots of seniors, lots of everybody really. The line for food was long, but not too long. Satchel immediately ran up to the glass to see what treasures were lurking behind it. Remembering our experience at the San Francisco Bread Company, I said, "Don't touch the food!" He pointed at the black eyed peas and said, "Ooh I want some of those beans!" Great!
I grabbed a rolling highchair and actually convinced Jiro to get in it. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to manage two monkeys and three meals. It didn't take Jiro long to realize he was the only monkey in captivity. He protested angrily and despite my pleas, refused to stay put.
Once I got him out, he had a bird's eye view of the treats just a few feet away. Andria, Shiloh, and I all looked at each other and simultaneously groaned, "Why is blue Jell-O the first thing in line!?" Moments later, thanks to the very excited monkeys swarming us, we saw that cupckaes with pink and blue icing and sprinkles were second in line.
I had no intention of blowing our free meals by being coerced into getting extras (like blue Jell-O and cupcakes). I asked the woman behind the counter if dessert was included with the free kids' meals and amazingly she said yes. Jiro wanted both a cupcake and a Jell-O and was pissed that I was making him choose. After much back and forth, he went with the cupcake. Satchel happily chose chocolate pudding. (Miss M got a pink cupcake and Lydia got something really fancy and fluffy with a "no sugar added" sign stuck in it.)
As we made our way towards the entrees, Satchel immediately zoned in on the fried chicken. "What about fish?" I asked hopefully. "No, chicken!" he said. Then Jiro piped in and said, "I want chicken!" The server said they were out of drumsticks, but neither monkey cared. Thighs it was. Just as I was about to order the last piece of Tilapia, the server looked over at Shiloh and took her order instead. "I'll have the Tilapia," she said. That left me with the fried catfish. (It actually looked really good--lightly battered and not greasy at all.)
Jiro looked at me and said, "I need to go pee pee." Uh-oh. "Can you hold it?" I asked. He nodded yes, but two seconds later said no. (Having had officially declared him potty trained the week before, I had brought on a slew of accidents, so I was wary of actually making him wait.) I looked around at the scene and wondered how I was going to manage. "Shiloh, do you think you could order the sides for me while I take Jiro to the bathroom?"
"Sure, no problem," she said.
What a saint!
I rushed Jiro to the bathroom as fast as I could and got us back in line in time to get rolls and drinks. (Satchel was so fascinated by the Piccadilly process I don't think he even knew I was gone.) Before letting the monkeys get a fountain drink I asked if they were included in the free kids' meals and once again I was told yes. What a deal! When we got to the end of the line a nice woman was waiting to help me carry our trays to a table.
Really, everything was almost too good to be true.
The waitress scooted tables together for us, took away the empty trays, and even got me a glass of water since I failed to get myself a drink. Then as if things couldn't get any better, both monkeys sat down and started eating. Quietly and happily. Shiloh and Lydia also seemed to be rather content. On my right it was another story. Miss M was losing her mind over the fact that she couldn't eat her pink cupcake right away. She was sobbing as though she had lost her best friend. It was really sad, but I couldn't help being happy that my two monkeys were behaving. And eating.
Jiro really wasn't interested in anything besides his chicken. Once it was gone, he set his sights on the cupcake. He had a couple licks of icing and then decided it wasn't all that great afterall. Then he started looking at me with pleading eyes and mouthing a word I could not understand. After a few minutes of me going, "Huh? Wha?" he grabbed my hand and led me back to the food line. All the way to the beginning. Where the blue Jell-O was. "I want jelly!" he said. Reluctantly, I grabbed a blue one, but he sent me back for green.
Once back at the table, a man came over and gave everyone a balloon. Satchel was clearly making up for the week's lack of nutritional dinners. He ate his chicken, all of his mashed potatoes (and gravy), and broccoli. Then he ate half of my green beans and almost all of the black eyed peas I'd ordered at the last minute, remembering his initial request. Then he looked at Shiloh and said, "Can I have some of your salad?" It was amazing. Finally he ate his pudding. When he was done, he calmly said, "I need to poop now."
Jiro and I escorted him to the bathroom. Shiloh and Lydia came soon after. (This left Andria at the table with Miss M in her lap desperately trying to cut her chicken fried steak with one hand.) Jiro busied himself washing his hands and I busied myself checking out the tween girls at the sink. They were in their soccer uniforms. One had shiney blue cleats and the other had white cleats with glittery dots on them. Cleats were never that pretty when I played soccer.
When Satchel was finally done, we headed back to the table where I was amazed to see that Andria and Miss M were still eating. They hadn't even made it to dessert! (No wonder Andria is so skinny!) As I looked out the window and saw the darkness descending, I said, "You're going to have to get that to go or we'll never make it to the playground."
Picadilly
3425 Poplar Avenue
(901)324-6442
Kids eat for $.99 every Thursday (Unless they select "big kid" entrees, then it's $1.99)
Satchel (age 4) Kid's Meal (fried chicken, mashed potatoes, broccoli, pudding, drink) $.99
Jiro (age 2) Kid's Meal (fried chicken, macaroni & cheese, broccoli, cupcake, drink) $.99
My Dilly Dish (fried catfish, green beans, black eyed peas, roll) $5.99
Total $8.71
Tip $2.00
Andria caught wind of my "kids eat free" spree and emailed me to see what I had in store for Thursday. Unsure of what exactly Piccadilly was, she asked, "Do they have country fried steak?" I told her it was a very good possibility and she replied that she and Miss M (age 3) would meet us at 6:00pm. At the boys' school I ran into our mutual friend, Shiloh, and invited her and her daughter, Lydia (age 2), along too. The more the merrier!
We arrived to find the place bustling. Lots of kids, lots of seniors, lots of everybody really. The line for food was long, but not too long. Satchel immediately ran up to the glass to see what treasures were lurking behind it. Remembering our experience at the San Francisco Bread Company, I said, "Don't touch the food!" He pointed at the black eyed peas and said, "Ooh I want some of those beans!" Great!
I grabbed a rolling highchair and actually convinced Jiro to get in it. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to manage two monkeys and three meals. It didn't take Jiro long to realize he was the only monkey in captivity. He protested angrily and despite my pleas, refused to stay put.
Once I got him out, he had a bird's eye view of the treats just a few feet away. Andria, Shiloh, and I all looked at each other and simultaneously groaned, "Why is blue Jell-O the first thing in line!?" Moments later, thanks to the very excited monkeys swarming us, we saw that cupckaes with pink and blue icing and sprinkles were second in line.
I had no intention of blowing our free meals by being coerced into getting extras (like blue Jell-O and cupcakes). I asked the woman behind the counter if dessert was included with the free kids' meals and amazingly she said yes. Jiro wanted both a cupcake and a Jell-O and was pissed that I was making him choose. After much back and forth, he went with the cupcake. Satchel happily chose chocolate pudding. (Miss M got a pink cupcake and Lydia got something really fancy and fluffy with a "no sugar added" sign stuck in it.)
As we made our way towards the entrees, Satchel immediately zoned in on the fried chicken. "What about fish?" I asked hopefully. "No, chicken!" he said. Then Jiro piped in and said, "I want chicken!" The server said they were out of drumsticks, but neither monkey cared. Thighs it was. Just as I was about to order the last piece of Tilapia, the server looked over at Shiloh and took her order instead. "I'll have the Tilapia," she said. That left me with the fried catfish. (It actually looked really good--lightly battered and not greasy at all.)
Jiro looked at me and said, "I need to go pee pee." Uh-oh. "Can you hold it?" I asked. He nodded yes, but two seconds later said no. (Having had officially declared him potty trained the week before, I had brought on a slew of accidents, so I was wary of actually making him wait.) I looked around at the scene and wondered how I was going to manage. "Shiloh, do you think you could order the sides for me while I take Jiro to the bathroom?"
"Sure, no problem," she said.
What a saint!
I rushed Jiro to the bathroom as fast as I could and got us back in line in time to get rolls and drinks. (Satchel was so fascinated by the Piccadilly process I don't think he even knew I was gone.) Before letting the monkeys get a fountain drink I asked if they were included in the free kids' meals and once again I was told yes. What a deal! When we got to the end of the line a nice woman was waiting to help me carry our trays to a table.
Really, everything was almost too good to be true.
The waitress scooted tables together for us, took away the empty trays, and even got me a glass of water since I failed to get myself a drink. Then as if things couldn't get any better, both monkeys sat down and started eating. Quietly and happily. Shiloh and Lydia also seemed to be rather content. On my right it was another story. Miss M was losing her mind over the fact that she couldn't eat her pink cupcake right away. She was sobbing as though she had lost her best friend. It was really sad, but I couldn't help being happy that my two monkeys were behaving. And eating.
Jiro really wasn't interested in anything besides his chicken. Once it was gone, he set his sights on the cupcake. He had a couple licks of icing and then decided it wasn't all that great afterall. Then he started looking at me with pleading eyes and mouthing a word I could not understand. After a few minutes of me going, "Huh? Wha?" he grabbed my hand and led me back to the food line. All the way to the beginning. Where the blue Jell-O was. "I want jelly!" he said. Reluctantly, I grabbed a blue one, but he sent me back for green.
Once back at the table, a man came over and gave everyone a balloon. Satchel was clearly making up for the week's lack of nutritional dinners. He ate his chicken, all of his mashed potatoes (and gravy), and broccoli. Then he ate half of my green beans and almost all of the black eyed peas I'd ordered at the last minute, remembering his initial request. Then he looked at Shiloh and said, "Can I have some of your salad?" It was amazing. Finally he ate his pudding. When he was done, he calmly said, "I need to poop now."
Jiro and I escorted him to the bathroom. Shiloh and Lydia came soon after. (This left Andria at the table with Miss M in her lap desperately trying to cut her chicken fried steak with one hand.) Jiro busied himself washing his hands and I busied myself checking out the tween girls at the sink. They were in their soccer uniforms. One had shiney blue cleats and the other had white cleats with glittery dots on them. Cleats were never that pretty when I played soccer.
When Satchel was finally done, we headed back to the table where I was amazed to see that Andria and Miss M were still eating. They hadn't even made it to dessert! (No wonder Andria is so skinny!) As I looked out the window and saw the darkness descending, I said, "You're going to have to get that to go or we'll never make it to the playground."
Friday, October 20, 2006
IHOP
The unedited "day three" of Do French Fries Make You Strong?
IHOP
2060 Union Avenue
901-725-4448
Kids eat free all day Wednesday (1 Kid per Adult)
Jiro (age 2)--Chicken Strips $0 (Normally $4.49)
Satchel (age 4)--Funny Face Pancake $0 (Normally $3.39)
Me--Migas $6.29
Gigi--Chicken Breast Dinner $8.49
Total: $16.11 + $3.00 tip = $19.11
I had informed Satchel upon waking that we were having breakfast for dinner. He excitedly said, "Does that mean we get dinner for breakfast?" (In anticipation of a less than nutritious dinner, I packed the kids a lunch full of protein and fresh fruit and vegetables.)
When we pulled into an empty parking lot at 5:45pm, I was a little shocked. The only other times I'd been to IHOP (Sunday morning or the wee hours of the weekend), it was packed. It actually made me a little giddy as my main concern with coming to IHOP was having to wait a long time. There were several large signs with happy face pankcakes declaring "Kids Eat Free All Day Wednesday" on the windows.
Inside I saw that there were about three other tables scattered about the restaurant. All three tables had at least one kid. Our server (and his trainee) was a bit slow coming over, but greeted us warmly and seated us in a booth. He immediately took our drink orders and gave us menus. The kids' menu was a paper placemat with pictures of each item, things to color and activities to do. I asked the monkeys to point to what they wanted. Jiro immediately pointed to the chicken strips and Satchel pointed to the chocolate chip happy face pancake. I couldn't believe Jiro didn't want the same, so I double checked and then tripled checked. Finally, I said, "No one wants eggs or bacon or waffles?" No and no. (Other kid's meal items included the Rooty Jr., Silver Five, French Toast, Pigs in Blankets, Grilled Cheese, Hamburger, and Cheese Omelet.)
I really didn't want to eat since I was planning to attend the Flyer's Best of Memphis party later in the evening, but I had to in order to get the freebie meal for one monkey. (In retrospect I realize that the cost of my meal was more than the cost of actually paying for the two kids' meals.) Since my mom was also dining with us, the other monkey was entitled to a free meal. However, the waiter informed her that she could not order off the senior menu and get a free kid's meal since the senior meals were already discounted. Then she was informed that her second choice, the herbed chicken, was out of stock. Reluctantly she got the chicken breast dinner with roasted potatoes, broccoli, and salad. I figured I should stick with breakfast and ordered the Migas (eggs, tomatoes, cheese, jalepenos, and tortilla strips).
The monkeys busied themselves with the crayons and the menu activities. Jiro quickly grew bored and attempted to swing from the low hanging light fixture above our table. When informed that this was not appropriate, he let out several shrill protests that made me happy that there very few people around. I remembered the stash of stickers I found in my purse a while back and quickly pulled them out. Thankfully, they caught Jiro's interest and kept him occupied.
My mom was brought out a salad with brown iceberg lettuce. She did not complain (except to me). The monkeys each had about ten croutons as an appetizer.
Of course we had to do a potty run before our food arrived. The restrooms were among the nastiest I have ever seen. A thorough handwashing and careful opening of doors while protected with paper towels was necessary to exit.
Next the monkeys' food came out. Jiro took one look at Satchel's happy face pancake and lunged across the table. Satchel blocked him and more shrieking ensued. We were able to convince Satchel to share and he cut off an entire eye and half the forehead for his brother. Jiro enthusiastically ate the cherry eyeball and then started in on his chicken strips.
A few minutes later I got my Migas and Gigi got her chicken breast. Satchel immediately stuck his chocolate covered hand in my hashbrowns and went to town. When he was done there, he hit Gigi up for some of her potatoes. My migas was okay. The tortilla strips were a bit stiff, but the jalepenos gave it a much needed kick. Gigi said her broccoli was inedible which was unfortunate. I had really hoped to get some of it in Satchel.
Once everyone was done and we had a second trip to the nasty bathrooms, I said, "Ok, now that we had breakfast for dinner, let's have broccoli and apples for dessert at home!"
I'm starting to think that with this kids eat free business, you really do get what you pay for.
IHOP
2060 Union Avenue
901-725-4448
Kids eat free all day Wednesday (1 Kid per Adult)
Jiro (age 2)--Chicken Strips $0 (Normally $4.49)
Satchel (age 4)--Funny Face Pancake $0 (Normally $3.39)
Me--Migas $6.29
Gigi--Chicken Breast Dinner $8.49
Total: $16.11 + $3.00 tip = $19.11
I had informed Satchel upon waking that we were having breakfast for dinner. He excitedly said, "Does that mean we get dinner for breakfast?" (In anticipation of a less than nutritious dinner, I packed the kids a lunch full of protein and fresh fruit and vegetables.)
When we pulled into an empty parking lot at 5:45pm, I was a little shocked. The only other times I'd been to IHOP (Sunday morning or the wee hours of the weekend), it was packed. It actually made me a little giddy as my main concern with coming to IHOP was having to wait a long time. There were several large signs with happy face pankcakes declaring "Kids Eat Free All Day Wednesday" on the windows.
Inside I saw that there were about three other tables scattered about the restaurant. All three tables had at least one kid. Our server (and his trainee) was a bit slow coming over, but greeted us warmly and seated us in a booth. He immediately took our drink orders and gave us menus. The kids' menu was a paper placemat with pictures of each item, things to color and activities to do. I asked the monkeys to point to what they wanted. Jiro immediately pointed to the chicken strips and Satchel pointed to the chocolate chip happy face pancake. I couldn't believe Jiro didn't want the same, so I double checked and then tripled checked. Finally, I said, "No one wants eggs or bacon or waffles?" No and no. (Other kid's meal items included the Rooty Jr., Silver Five, French Toast, Pigs in Blankets, Grilled Cheese, Hamburger, and Cheese Omelet.)
I really didn't want to eat since I was planning to attend the Flyer's Best of Memphis party later in the evening, but I had to in order to get the freebie meal for one monkey. (In retrospect I realize that the cost of my meal was more than the cost of actually paying for the two kids' meals.) Since my mom was also dining with us, the other monkey was entitled to a free meal. However, the waiter informed her that she could not order off the senior menu and get a free kid's meal since the senior meals were already discounted. Then she was informed that her second choice, the herbed chicken, was out of stock. Reluctantly she got the chicken breast dinner with roasted potatoes, broccoli, and salad. I figured I should stick with breakfast and ordered the Migas (eggs, tomatoes, cheese, jalepenos, and tortilla strips).
The monkeys busied themselves with the crayons and the menu activities. Jiro quickly grew bored and attempted to swing from the low hanging light fixture above our table. When informed that this was not appropriate, he let out several shrill protests that made me happy that there very few people around. I remembered the stash of stickers I found in my purse a while back and quickly pulled them out. Thankfully, they caught Jiro's interest and kept him occupied.
My mom was brought out a salad with brown iceberg lettuce. She did not complain (except to me). The monkeys each had about ten croutons as an appetizer.
Of course we had to do a potty run before our food arrived. The restrooms were among the nastiest I have ever seen. A thorough handwashing and careful opening of doors while protected with paper towels was necessary to exit.
Next the monkeys' food came out. Jiro took one look at Satchel's happy face pancake and lunged across the table. Satchel blocked him and more shrieking ensued. We were able to convince Satchel to share and he cut off an entire eye and half the forehead for his brother. Jiro enthusiastically ate the cherry eyeball and then started in on his chicken strips.
A few minutes later I got my Migas and Gigi got her chicken breast. Satchel immediately stuck his chocolate covered hand in my hashbrowns and went to town. When he was done there, he hit Gigi up for some of her potatoes. My migas was okay. The tortilla strips were a bit stiff, but the jalepenos gave it a much needed kick. Gigi said her broccoli was inedible which was unfortunate. I had really hoped to get some of it in Satchel.
Once everyone was done and we had a second trip to the nasty bathrooms, I said, "Ok, now that we had breakfast for dinner, let's have broccoli and apples for dessert at home!"
I'm starting to think that with this kids eat free business, you really do get what you pay for.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
McAlister's
The unedited "day two" of Do French Fries Make You Strong?
McAlister's Deli
3482 Plaza Avenue
(901) 452-6009
Chicken Caeser Wrap (with fruit) $6.49
Kid's Nacho (Teddy Grahams) $0
Kid's Pizza (Teddy Grahams) $0
2 Kids Lemondade $2.00
1 Water $.25
Total: $9.54
While I stood in line, the monkeys (Satchel, 4, and Jiro, 2) excitedly ran back and forth across the entry way touching the numerous candy dispensers with their filthy paws. They wasted no time letting on that they had escaped from the zoo. "I want a quarter I want a quarter!" was all anyone near the counter could hear. I gave them each a penny and turned my attention toward the task at hand: Free food day two.
The kids' menu offers seven choices: Toasted Cheese Sandwich, PB&J, Mac's Dog (hot dog), Kid's Nacho, Ham & Cheese, Turkey & Cheese, Cheese Pita Pizza. The sandwiches come with chips and everything comes with Teddy Grahams. The actual kids meal prices were pretty fair ($1.19-$2.75), which took a little bit of the fun out of the free-ness. I asked the girl behind the counter if kids ate free on Tuesday (even though the sign was right above her head) and she said, "Uh, I don't know, let me check." After conferring with a few coworkers, she confirmed that kids did in fact eat free on Tuesdays.
I let the monkeys choose what they wanted. I read Satchel the full list and he chose nachos. I gave Jiro two options: pizza or hot dog. He chose pizza. (He was rallying for day two at CiCi's the whole way over.) I had really meant to peruse the menu online before coming, but never did. I didn't have time to read through everything, so I quickly decided on the Chicken Caesar Wrap. The girl at the counter replied, "It's actually kind of good." I wasn't sure if this was a good sign or not. I knew I should probably get something more exciting, like a spud or "The Big Nasty," but the "Come Back" gravy turned me off. I wasn't going to order drinks in an effort to keep the bill as low as possible, but for a brief moment I thought the kids drinks might be free. They weren't.
Satchel yelped that he wanted to sit outside and I acquiesced due to the plethora of candy machines in view of every booth inside. Once I saw the the patio was not enclosed and that it opened up onto a very busy parking lot I immediately wanted to renig. I knew that we'd be lucky to get a few bites in before Jiro made his break.
Our food came pretty quickly. When I looked at Satchel's plate I had a oh my god what was I thinking letting him eat nachos for dinner moment when I realized that the nachos were just chips and dip. I don't know what I was really expecting, but I felt very embarrassed by the reality of the situation. Jiro of course took one look at his soggy pizza covered in blood (as Satchel noted) and went right for the nachos. It was ugly. Finally Satchel agreed to share if Jiro would. As Satchel went for a bite of pizza he said, "ooh fly!" and I shooed it away. Then he said, "I can't eat it now that they fly puked all over it." That's when I noticed the flies attacking my sandwich. I covered it with napkins and inspected my fruit. At first I thought it was fruit cocktail out of a can. Upon further inspection I was happy to see that it was peeled oranges, grapefruit, and grapes. My sandwich was good, but dull as hell. (I just can't get excited about cold dinner--unless it is sushi.)
I ate about half of my food when Jiro broke free from the table. He very slyly pretended to be dancing and enjoying himself before breaking into a full sprint off the patio. I immediately grabbed him, grabbed a to-go box and our three drinks, and got the hell out of there.
RJA also reviewed McAllister's here.
McAlister's Deli
3482 Plaza Avenue
(901) 452-6009
Chicken Caeser Wrap (with fruit) $6.49
Kid's Nacho (Teddy Grahams) $0
Kid's Pizza (Teddy Grahams) $0
2 Kids Lemondade $2.00
1 Water $.25
Total: $9.54
While I stood in line, the monkeys (Satchel, 4, and Jiro, 2) excitedly ran back and forth across the entry way touching the numerous candy dispensers with their filthy paws. They wasted no time letting on that they had escaped from the zoo. "I want a quarter I want a quarter!" was all anyone near the counter could hear. I gave them each a penny and turned my attention toward the task at hand: Free food day two.
The kids' menu offers seven choices: Toasted Cheese Sandwich, PB&J, Mac's Dog (hot dog), Kid's Nacho, Ham & Cheese, Turkey & Cheese, Cheese Pita Pizza. The sandwiches come with chips and everything comes with Teddy Grahams. The actual kids meal prices were pretty fair ($1.19-$2.75), which took a little bit of the fun out of the free-ness. I asked the girl behind the counter if kids ate free on Tuesday (even though the sign was right above her head) and she said, "Uh, I don't know, let me check." After conferring with a few coworkers, she confirmed that kids did in fact eat free on Tuesdays.
I let the monkeys choose what they wanted. I read Satchel the full list and he chose nachos. I gave Jiro two options: pizza or hot dog. He chose pizza. (He was rallying for day two at CiCi's the whole way over.) I had really meant to peruse the menu online before coming, but never did. I didn't have time to read through everything, so I quickly decided on the Chicken Caesar Wrap. The girl at the counter replied, "It's actually kind of good." I wasn't sure if this was a good sign or not. I knew I should probably get something more exciting, like a spud or "The Big Nasty," but the "Come Back" gravy turned me off. I wasn't going to order drinks in an effort to keep the bill as low as possible, but for a brief moment I thought the kids drinks might be free. They weren't.
Satchel yelped that he wanted to sit outside and I acquiesced due to the plethora of candy machines in view of every booth inside. Once I saw the the patio was not enclosed and that it opened up onto a very busy parking lot I immediately wanted to renig. I knew that we'd be lucky to get a few bites in before Jiro made his break.
Our food came pretty quickly. When I looked at Satchel's plate I had a oh my god what was I thinking letting him eat nachos for dinner moment when I realized that the nachos were just chips and dip. I don't know what I was really expecting, but I felt very embarrassed by the reality of the situation. Jiro of course took one look at his soggy pizza covered in blood (as Satchel noted) and went right for the nachos. It was ugly. Finally Satchel agreed to share if Jiro would. As Satchel went for a bite of pizza he said, "ooh fly!" and I shooed it away. Then he said, "I can't eat it now that they fly puked all over it." That's when I noticed the flies attacking my sandwich. I covered it with napkins and inspected my fruit. At first I thought it was fruit cocktail out of a can. Upon further inspection I was happy to see that it was peeled oranges, grapefruit, and grapes. My sandwich was good, but dull as hell. (I just can't get excited about cold dinner--unless it is sushi.)
I ate about half of my food when Jiro broke free from the table. He very slyly pretended to be dancing and enjoying himself before breaking into a full sprint off the patio. I immediately grabbed him, grabbed a to-go box and our three drinks, and got the hell out of there.
RJA also reviewed McAllister's here.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
CiCi's Pizza
Today's Flyer features a very truncated version of my "Kids Eat Free" week-long adventure from last month, entitled Do You French Fries Make You Strong? I plan to post the unedited accounts here over the next several days for those of you who simply can't get enough of me and my monkeys (Satchel, 4, and Jiro, 2).
CiCi's Pizza
3474 Plaza Avenue, Suite 1
Poplar Plaza Shopping Center
(901) 452-6225
Buffet Hours 11:00am-10:00pm Daily
All you can eat pizza (16 kinds), pasta, salad, and dessert.
$.99 Three and under
$3.18 Child Buffet
$4.29 Adult Buffet
Grand total for me and the monkeys: $9.24
We hit CiCi's at 5:45pm on a Monday night. It was about a third full and I actually spotted several people without children dining. (There was a very large woman next to us in line and Satchel pointed to her generous hindquarters and smiled.) There's numerous seating options--tables, booths, stools, and even a couple of picnic tables. There's several vending machine/games scattered around as well as a game room. A TV is positioned on either side of the dining room--one tuned to the news and the other to cartoons.
The salad bar was impressive--two types of lettuce, several enticing toppings (banana peppers), and lots of dressings to choose from. The pasta bin was almost empty, but there was enough for the monkeys. There's a choice of alredo or red sauce to go on top. Sixteen different pizzas to choose from, all seemingly fresh and hot. BBQ, hawaiian, salad on top, spinach, veggie, pepperoni, jalapeno, no sauce, etc. (100% real mozarella, freshly prepared sauce, freshly made dough, garden fresh vegetable toppings.) Plus garlic bread. Desserts included brownies sprinkled with confectioner's sugar, apple cinnamon pizza, and strudel.
Drinks were $.99 so we opted for water. We did end up with one green cup (as opposed to clear) which Jiro immediately set out to fill with Hawaiian Punch. The ice machine got stuck as Jiro was filling his cup and the boys happily watched as the floor got covered with ice.
Jiro had two bathroom runs, one resulting in the largest poop I've ever seen. Bathrooms were fairly clean. Hot water was scalding and someone left a pile of relish packets outside the door. Satchel saw a friend from school. The place was very lively and no one even noticed when Jiro took a few moments to roll around on the floor or make a run in the kitchen. Satchel had a hard time keeping his hands to himself and was caught picking at the brownies on the dessert bar on more than one occasion.
Satchel had four pieces of garlic bread, one slice of pepperoni, some plain pasta with parmesan sprinkled on it, and 1.5 brownies. Jiro had two slices of pepperoni, two Hawaiian punches, and one brownie. I had a small salad and three small slices of pepperoni. It kind of sucked having no official leftovers since the monkeys invariably ask, "What's for dinner?" when we get home from eating at most restaurants. As a pre-emptive measure, I stuck one large piece of pizza that Jiro took one bit out of in my purse. (He ended up eating it before we got home.)
CiCi's Pizza
3474 Plaza Avenue, Suite 1
Poplar Plaza Shopping Center
(901) 452-6225
Buffet Hours 11:00am-10:00pm Daily
All you can eat pizza (16 kinds), pasta, salad, and dessert.
$.99 Three and under
$3.18 Child Buffet
$4.29 Adult Buffet
Grand total for me and the monkeys: $9.24
We hit CiCi's at 5:45pm on a Monday night. It was about a third full and I actually spotted several people without children dining. (There was a very large woman next to us in line and Satchel pointed to her generous hindquarters and smiled.) There's numerous seating options--tables, booths, stools, and even a couple of picnic tables. There's several vending machine/games scattered around as well as a game room. A TV is positioned on either side of the dining room--one tuned to the news and the other to cartoons.
The salad bar was impressive--two types of lettuce, several enticing toppings (banana peppers), and lots of dressings to choose from. The pasta bin was almost empty, but there was enough for the monkeys. There's a choice of alredo or red sauce to go on top. Sixteen different pizzas to choose from, all seemingly fresh and hot. BBQ, hawaiian, salad on top, spinach, veggie, pepperoni, jalapeno, no sauce, etc. (100% real mozarella, freshly prepared sauce, freshly made dough, garden fresh vegetable toppings.) Plus garlic bread. Desserts included brownies sprinkled with confectioner's sugar, apple cinnamon pizza, and strudel.
Drinks were $.99 so we opted for water. We did end up with one green cup (as opposed to clear) which Jiro immediately set out to fill with Hawaiian Punch. The ice machine got stuck as Jiro was filling his cup and the boys happily watched as the floor got covered with ice.
Jiro had two bathroom runs, one resulting in the largest poop I've ever seen. Bathrooms were fairly clean. Hot water was scalding and someone left a pile of relish packets outside the door. Satchel saw a friend from school. The place was very lively and no one even noticed when Jiro took a few moments to roll around on the floor or make a run in the kitchen. Satchel had a hard time keeping his hands to himself and was caught picking at the brownies on the dessert bar on more than one occasion.
Satchel had four pieces of garlic bread, one slice of pepperoni, some plain pasta with parmesan sprinkled on it, and 1.5 brownies. Jiro had two slices of pepperoni, two Hawaiian punches, and one brownie. I had a small salad and three small slices of pepperoni. It kind of sucked having no official leftovers since the monkeys invariably ask, "What's for dinner?" when we get home from eating at most restaurants. As a pre-emptive measure, I stuck one large piece of pizza that Jiro took one bit out of in my purse. (He ended up eating it before we got home.)
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
San Francisco Bread Company (closed)
San Francisco Bread Company
990 Germantown Road
737.6636
Last week I got an email from one of the lovely women behind Memphis Loves Kids. Since I knew Warren would be gone for several weeks, I immediately became obsessed with their Kids Eat Free list. I decided to alphabetize it, reorganize it by day, do some research of my own, and see if I could come up with a schedule of sorts to get free meals for the monkeys (Satchel, 4, and Jiro, 2) on a regular basis while our chef was in the field.
Unfortunately, none of my favorite restaurants was on the list so I had to think hard about whether the "free-ness" would be worth going to place that I knew very little about. Chains and franchises in the ‘burbs are not usually my first picks. However, I planned to take the monkeys to a “fitness” class at the Germantown Center on Wednesday, so I figured I should check out the San Francisco Bread Company.
According to the list, kids 12 & under eat free (1 kid per adult) Monday-Thursday at the San Francisco Bread Company. I had taken the monkeys to a similar type place, Firehouse Subs, (after swimming) with good results, so I figured it was a safe bet. The idea of not actually having to pay $3.99 for a PB&J or grilled cheese sandwich also appealed to me.
Jacked-up and hungry, we rolled into the SFBC at 6:30ish. It was very chain-like but in a west coast sort of way. The place was pretty deserted except for one dude (and his laptop) in the lounge area and one other family happily eating in the corner. Looking at the glass enclosed counter, Satchel said, “Do we get to pick out our own food?” Before I could answer, he and Jiro bolted over and started fingering the pastries through a one inch slit at the bottom of the glass.
The one guy behind the counter, the owner I presume, already loved us. I could just tell.
After perusing the menu for a second, I said, “Kids eat free, right?”
The man looked at me and shook his head and said, “No.”
Okay. It wasn’t like I could bolt at this point. We were hungry, we were here, and I didn't have the energy to answer 500 questions about why we had to leave. “I’ll take a cheese pizza kid’s meal, a PB&J kid’s meal, and a roast beef sandwich,” I said as non-grumpily as possible before forking over $14.83. (That was with me getting a sandwich and water, no fancy combo or anything.)
The man handed me three empty cups and I proceeded to fill them while barking at Satchel not to touch the fancy computer they had for customers. I was so frazzled that I acquiesced to Jiro’s demands for orange Fanta instead of pink lemonade. (I doubt the actual sugar/nasty ingredient content differs all that much anyway.) We sat down at a table and surprisingly Jiro happily got in the highchair after discovering that he was too short to comfortably tilt his straw into his mouth from the table. Satchel was excited by the postcards of the Bay Bridge on the table. “Hey! We’ve been there!” he squealed.
The monkeys managed to get primo spots and I was left with the setting sun blinding me through the front window. It must have cast a glow on my water glass because Jiro looked at me and asked hopefully, “That beer?”
Since it seemed to be taking a long time for the food, I decided to do a pre-emptive bathroom run with Jiro. Satchel asked if he could wait at the table and I agreed. (He’s actually very good about staying out of trouble when no one is watching.)
The women’s room was out of order, so we used the men’s room. It was pretty basic and the trip was uneventful. Jiro was happy to sprint back through the restaurant to his orange Fanta. The man arrived a few minutes later with our food. Satchel looked at his plate and said, “Is this all?” I had grabbed his cookie, so he was left staring at a mini pizza and a bag of chips.
“That’s all,” I said.
He looked at Jiro’s PB&J and said he wanted it. I suggested doing “halfsies” but he decided he did want all of his pizza after all. (With some negotiating, I was able to get a piece of it for Jiro.)
As Satchel took a bite of his pizza he said, “This is yummy.”
Jiro took a bite of his and said, “No like that,” followed by “I need to go poop.”
Once again I left Satchel at the table while Jiro and I went to the men’s room.
When we returned, Jiro proceeded to slowly lick the jelly off of his sandwich. “I’m done,” he informed me two seconds later. I did what I had to do. I got him a refill on the Fanta.
My roast beef sandwich was pretty good as far as sandwiches go. I liked the bread and it was a decent size. Sandwiches for dinner are just sort of anti-climactic for me though. I was about half-way through when Satchel said, “I need to poop.”
There was no way that I was going to leave Jiro unattended, so we all set off for the bathroom. My third trip! I notified the guy behind the counter so he wouldn’t throw away our food while we were otherwise occupied. Thankfully Satchel was quick and we were back at the table in no time.
By now the dude with the laptop was gone and so was the other family. The owner came out with his vacuum and went to work. My first thought was, Did that family make such a mess that the guy was counting the seconds until they left? Then He must really hate kids! And finally, Why do they have carpet in here anyway? Once he was done cleaning their mess, he headed our way. Can’t he just wait ‘til we’re done? Then I noticed that the vacuum was actually keeping the monkeys occupied, so I commenced eating while I could.
With most of their dinners still on their plates, I handed them their cookies in an attempt to squash any notions they had about going to the “ice cream store” for dessert. Once in possession of their desserts, both monkeys got up from the table and began exploring. I quickly got a box for the leftovers and hoped to make a break for it before they did any damage. Satchel had discovered an oversized checkers game by the sofas and wanted to play. I didn’t see any harm in it, and decided to try and teach him.
He and Jiro were both very interested for about five minutes. Once Jiro lost interest he started climbing on the back of the sofa to set up a jump.
“That’s it guys,” I said as the owner stared at me from our previous table. I smiled and picked up Jiro and herded him and Satchel out the door. As it swung shut behind us I noticed that they closed at 7:00pm. I looked at my watch. It read 7:30pm.
Oh my god, we totally suck!
No wonder they don’t do free kids meals.
990 Germantown Road
737.6636
Last week I got an email from one of the lovely women behind Memphis Loves Kids. Since I knew Warren would be gone for several weeks, I immediately became obsessed with their Kids Eat Free list. I decided to alphabetize it, reorganize it by day, do some research of my own, and see if I could come up with a schedule of sorts to get free meals for the monkeys (Satchel, 4, and Jiro, 2) on a regular basis while our chef was in the field.
Unfortunately, none of my favorite restaurants was on the list so I had to think hard about whether the "free-ness" would be worth going to place that I knew very little about. Chains and franchises in the ‘burbs are not usually my first picks. However, I planned to take the monkeys to a “fitness” class at the Germantown Center on Wednesday, so I figured I should check out the San Francisco Bread Company.
According to the list, kids 12 & under eat free (1 kid per adult) Monday-Thursday at the San Francisco Bread Company. I had taken the monkeys to a similar type place, Firehouse Subs, (after swimming) with good results, so I figured it was a safe bet. The idea of not actually having to pay $3.99 for a PB&J or grilled cheese sandwich also appealed to me.
Jacked-up and hungry, we rolled into the SFBC at 6:30ish. It was very chain-like but in a west coast sort of way. The place was pretty deserted except for one dude (and his laptop) in the lounge area and one other family happily eating in the corner. Looking at the glass enclosed counter, Satchel said, “Do we get to pick out our own food?” Before I could answer, he and Jiro bolted over and started fingering the pastries through a one inch slit at the bottom of the glass.
The one guy behind the counter, the owner I presume, already loved us. I could just tell.
After perusing the menu for a second, I said, “Kids eat free, right?”
The man looked at me and shook his head and said, “No.”
Okay. It wasn’t like I could bolt at this point. We were hungry, we were here, and I didn't have the energy to answer 500 questions about why we had to leave. “I’ll take a cheese pizza kid’s meal, a PB&J kid’s meal, and a roast beef sandwich,” I said as non-grumpily as possible before forking over $14.83. (That was with me getting a sandwich and water, no fancy combo or anything.)
The man handed me three empty cups and I proceeded to fill them while barking at Satchel not to touch the fancy computer they had for customers. I was so frazzled that I acquiesced to Jiro’s demands for orange Fanta instead of pink lemonade. (I doubt the actual sugar/nasty ingredient content differs all that much anyway.) We sat down at a table and surprisingly Jiro happily got in the highchair after discovering that he was too short to comfortably tilt his straw into his mouth from the table. Satchel was excited by the postcards of the Bay Bridge on the table. “Hey! We’ve been there!” he squealed.
The monkeys managed to get primo spots and I was left with the setting sun blinding me through the front window. It must have cast a glow on my water glass because Jiro looked at me and asked hopefully, “That beer?”
Since it seemed to be taking a long time for the food, I decided to do a pre-emptive bathroom run with Jiro. Satchel asked if he could wait at the table and I agreed. (He’s actually very good about staying out of trouble when no one is watching.)
The women’s room was out of order, so we used the men’s room. It was pretty basic and the trip was uneventful. Jiro was happy to sprint back through the restaurant to his orange Fanta. The man arrived a few minutes later with our food. Satchel looked at his plate and said, “Is this all?” I had grabbed his cookie, so he was left staring at a mini pizza and a bag of chips.
“That’s all,” I said.
He looked at Jiro’s PB&J and said he wanted it. I suggested doing “halfsies” but he decided he did want all of his pizza after all. (With some negotiating, I was able to get a piece of it for Jiro.)
As Satchel took a bite of his pizza he said, “This is yummy.”
Jiro took a bite of his and said, “No like that,” followed by “I need to go poop.”
Once again I left Satchel at the table while Jiro and I went to the men’s room.
When we returned, Jiro proceeded to slowly lick the jelly off of his sandwich. “I’m done,” he informed me two seconds later. I did what I had to do. I got him a refill on the Fanta.
My roast beef sandwich was pretty good as far as sandwiches go. I liked the bread and it was a decent size. Sandwiches for dinner are just sort of anti-climactic for me though. I was about half-way through when Satchel said, “I need to poop.”
There was no way that I was going to leave Jiro unattended, so we all set off for the bathroom. My third trip! I notified the guy behind the counter so he wouldn’t throw away our food while we were otherwise occupied. Thankfully Satchel was quick and we were back at the table in no time.
By now the dude with the laptop was gone and so was the other family. The owner came out with his vacuum and went to work. My first thought was, Did that family make such a mess that the guy was counting the seconds until they left? Then He must really hate kids! And finally, Why do they have carpet in here anyway? Once he was done cleaning their mess, he headed our way. Can’t he just wait ‘til we’re done? Then I noticed that the vacuum was actually keeping the monkeys occupied, so I commenced eating while I could.
With most of their dinners still on their plates, I handed them their cookies in an attempt to squash any notions they had about going to the “ice cream store” for dessert. Once in possession of their desserts, both monkeys got up from the table and began exploring. I quickly got a box for the leftovers and hoped to make a break for it before they did any damage. Satchel had discovered an oversized checkers game by the sofas and wanted to play. I didn’t see any harm in it, and decided to try and teach him.
He and Jiro were both very interested for about five minutes. Once Jiro lost interest he started climbing on the back of the sofa to set up a jump.
“That’s it guys,” I said as the owner stared at me from our previous table. I smiled and picked up Jiro and herded him and Satchel out the door. As it swung shut behind us I noticed that they closed at 7:00pm. I looked at my watch. It read 7:30pm.
Oh my god, we totally suck!
No wonder they don’t do free kids meals.
Friday, September 08, 2006
McAllister's
After numerous threats of bodily harm, RJA has come through with another hilarious review.
McAllister’s
Poplar Plaza
Normally I wouldn’t even take the time to review a place like McAllister’s. It’s akin to reviewing an Applebee’s or Friday’s or Burger King, as far as I’m concerned. I’m a firm believer in supporting the small business. As a small business owner myself, it’s something I wish others took to heart as much as I. There are times I think I may go overboard, because when we go to the Ma & Pa restaurants, at some point during the evening, The Quartet will start playing with napkins or straws or toothpicks, and it’s then that they get my lecture on how everything in there costs somebody money. “Even though they’re free to you, doesn’t mean they were free to the owner of this business. Now put that napkin down and wipe your mouth on your brother’s shirt, it’s his turn.” And I normally wouldn’t even choose to eat at a McAllister’s as I find the food incredibly mediocre and don’t understand all the fuss about the sweet tea, but McAllister whispered those three little words to me that everyone wants to hear, every parent of four, anyway: Kids Eat Free. Or don’t eat, as far as my kids are concerned, what the hell do I care? I didn’t pay for it.
Kristy had to work that evening so I had The Quartet all to myself. Because you can’t discern inflection over the internet, let me clarify that I’m not saying that in the tone of “I had the TV all to myself” but more like “I had the stomach flu all to myself.” These kids are good up to a point, and apparently that point is about 6:15, while standing in line at a McAllister’s to order dinner. Since Admiral Jeff had to work as well, Andria and M joined us for an impromptu playdate. Either that or it was the most poorly planned extramarital affair ever.
It all began while in line to order, and it all began with JP. JP. Where did we go wrong? This child used to be my quiet one. He could sit still, quietly taking in everything going on around him without even a peep. He’s gone through some sort of change, though, and the reason is hard to discern. Flying too close to the yellow sun of Earth? Not likely. Gamma rays? Hardly. All the sugar he’s consumed daily over the last five years finally catching up to him? Possibly. All I know is he’s uncontrollable with his gleeful screams and his herky-jerky, Tourette’s-like movements. And there it was, on full display for all of McAllister’s to see. So I held GK, still quiet and still in her car seat/carrier-thing, while holding JP by one hand and trying to take drink orders and simultaneously give our order for dinner. The bright side is I think the teenager behind the counter took pity on me and gave me three kids’ meals free instead of the stated two-per-paying-adult limit. At least I think that was pity in her eyes. It could have been fear. Either way they were all free and it should keep that young lady in the practice of safe sex. One thing about the Poplar Plaza McAllister’s is that, even though there’s no real service in the sense of waitresses or bartenders, the help there is very helpful. I had assistance carrying our drinks to the table (the help I brought with me was decidedly unhelpful) and she was quick to point out the high chairs.
Once on the patio, S immediately refused to eat her turkey sandwich. And then she ate her turkey sandwich. JP ate his PB&J between fits and ticks and jubilant screams. C ate a turkey & cheese sandwich. They then decided it was time to play school. I have never seen these children play school. Why would they decide to organize playtime like this while on the patio of a restaurant? To make my head explode, that’s why. They rearranged their chairs to more of a schoolroom feel, not realizing (or caring) that they included two adjacent diners into their classroom. They took turns being the teacher, which meant standing up on the ledge of the giant front window and yelling out instructions to the others. Apparently these instructions included running to the other side of the patio and, for JP anyway, doing some sort of frenetic modern dance.
M looked on in awe. I’ve heard M can terrorize a Gus’s Fried Chicken or a Pei-Wei well enough in her own right, but she watched The Quartet like a Mormon at her first Rolling Stones concert – a little admiration and a little bit of fear. Andria ate her dinner, completely unaware of the mischief at hand, the words playing over and over in her head inaudible, yet completely readable on her face: “Not my kids. Not my kids. Not my kids.”
As usual, dinner ended with me vowing never to return…until next Tuesday, because, after all, kids do eat free.
Andria also reviewed McAllister's awhile back. Read her review here.
McAllister’s
Poplar Plaza
Normally I wouldn’t even take the time to review a place like McAllister’s. It’s akin to reviewing an Applebee’s or Friday’s or Burger King, as far as I’m concerned. I’m a firm believer in supporting the small business. As a small business owner myself, it’s something I wish others took to heart as much as I. There are times I think I may go overboard, because when we go to the Ma & Pa restaurants, at some point during the evening, The Quartet will start playing with napkins or straws or toothpicks, and it’s then that they get my lecture on how everything in there costs somebody money. “Even though they’re free to you, doesn’t mean they were free to the owner of this business. Now put that napkin down and wipe your mouth on your brother’s shirt, it’s his turn.” And I normally wouldn’t even choose to eat at a McAllister’s as I find the food incredibly mediocre and don’t understand all the fuss about the sweet tea, but McAllister whispered those three little words to me that everyone wants to hear, every parent of four, anyway: Kids Eat Free. Or don’t eat, as far as my kids are concerned, what the hell do I care? I didn’t pay for it.
Kristy had to work that evening so I had The Quartet all to myself. Because you can’t discern inflection over the internet, let me clarify that I’m not saying that in the tone of “I had the TV all to myself” but more like “I had the stomach flu all to myself.” These kids are good up to a point, and apparently that point is about 6:15, while standing in line at a McAllister’s to order dinner. Since Admiral Jeff had to work as well, Andria and M joined us for an impromptu playdate. Either that or it was the most poorly planned extramarital affair ever.
It all began while in line to order, and it all began with JP. JP. Where did we go wrong? This child used to be my quiet one. He could sit still, quietly taking in everything going on around him without even a peep. He’s gone through some sort of change, though, and the reason is hard to discern. Flying too close to the yellow sun of Earth? Not likely. Gamma rays? Hardly. All the sugar he’s consumed daily over the last five years finally catching up to him? Possibly. All I know is he’s uncontrollable with his gleeful screams and his herky-jerky, Tourette’s-like movements. And there it was, on full display for all of McAllister’s to see. So I held GK, still quiet and still in her car seat/carrier-thing, while holding JP by one hand and trying to take drink orders and simultaneously give our order for dinner. The bright side is I think the teenager behind the counter took pity on me and gave me three kids’ meals free instead of the stated two-per-paying-adult limit. At least I think that was pity in her eyes. It could have been fear. Either way they were all free and it should keep that young lady in the practice of safe sex. One thing about the Poplar Plaza McAllister’s is that, even though there’s no real service in the sense of waitresses or bartenders, the help there is very helpful. I had assistance carrying our drinks to the table (the help I brought with me was decidedly unhelpful) and she was quick to point out the high chairs.
Once on the patio, S immediately refused to eat her turkey sandwich. And then she ate her turkey sandwich. JP ate his PB&J between fits and ticks and jubilant screams. C ate a turkey & cheese sandwich. They then decided it was time to play school. I have never seen these children play school. Why would they decide to organize playtime like this while on the patio of a restaurant? To make my head explode, that’s why. They rearranged their chairs to more of a schoolroom feel, not realizing (or caring) that they included two adjacent diners into their classroom. They took turns being the teacher, which meant standing up on the ledge of the giant front window and yelling out instructions to the others. Apparently these instructions included running to the other side of the patio and, for JP anyway, doing some sort of frenetic modern dance.
M looked on in awe. I’ve heard M can terrorize a Gus’s Fried Chicken or a Pei-Wei well enough in her own right, but she watched The Quartet like a Mormon at her first Rolling Stones concert – a little admiration and a little bit of fear. Andria ate her dinner, completely unaware of the mischief at hand, the words playing over and over in her head inaudible, yet completely readable on her face: “Not my kids. Not my kids. Not my kids.”
As usual, dinner ended with me vowing never to return…until next Tuesday, because, after all, kids do eat free.
Andria also reviewed McAllister's awhile back. Read her review here.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
McAlister's
I am happy to present a review from my third guest blogger Andria. It definitely fell into the "me feeling inadequate because of its genius" category, but I decided to post it anyway, because I love my readers.
McAlister’s Deli
3482 Plaza Avenue (Poplar Plaza/Poplar & Highland)
452-6009
It seems a little like cheating to review a restaurant with no wait staff, but since McAlister’s is one of our favorite quick-but-not-fast food joints in Memphis, I figured I should share the experience. We’ve been going to the McAlister’s in Poplar Plaza since our childbirth education days. We’d be starving after the 3-hour, mid-day class (okay, I was starving all the time) and it was a good place to stop before doing any other Saturday errands we needed to do, like getting dog food at Petco or buying another birth guide at Bookstar or misting up over the Old Navy clothes I couldn’t fit into. So once that belly-bulge was out in the world and grew some teeth of her own, McAlister’s seemed like a natural place to take her.
Our most recent trip was inspired by the sudden awareness that McAlister’s does a “kids eat free” deal on Tuesdays from 3-10pm. You don’t even have to ask for it; their registers are technologically barred from charging for kid’s meals during that period. I’m not sure if kids eating off the regular menu get the same deal or not. I would hope so, because the kids’ menu is pretty limited and I can’t see a 12-year-old really filling up on a pita pizza and potato chips.
I got my usual – broccoli-cheese soup in a bread bowl - and tried to steer the monkey toward something semi-healthy by getting the grilled turkey and cheese sandwich. I also ordered one of their big ol’ lemonades, which are at least sort of homemade and taste a lot better than soda-machine lemonade (yeah, I’m looking at you, Minute Maid). McAlister’s is better known for their sweet tea, but I’m not much for the caffeine and one look at that 2-liter cup makes me jittery. Jeff always gets a sandwich, and this time he chose something involving peppers and beef, I think (it’s always gone within five minutes so I don’t pay that much attention). “We” (read: Jeff) also got a nacho basket as an appetizer. The full menu is huge and pretty daunting, but the friendly counter staff is willing to answer any questions.
The drinks and chips were ready instantly, so we grabbed those and chose from one of the many available tables. This was fairly early – around 5ish – on a weekday, so be warned that regular dinner traffic can be busier. And I’d strongly advise against bringing a monkey during the weekday lunch rush. We once sat for over 45 minutes waiting for our food. They hadn’t forgotten it – they just got that backed up. Anyway, the monkey had barely finished testing all of the possible uses of our plastic order number (It’s a hat! It’s a bracelet! It’s a chair for the sugar packet people!) when our food arrived.
And now I’d like to take a moment to speak to every server in every restaurant offering a children’s menu: DON’T BRING THE FREAKIN’ DESSERT AT THE SAME TIME AS THE ENTRÉE! Okay, so calling some toast slapped over a couple turkey cuts an entrée is sort of stretching it, but still. I was hoping the monkey would get through at least half of the artistically sliced sandwich (“Ooh, it’s a pyramid, honey! Look! Eat some!”), but no, the siren song of the Teddy Grahams could not be resisted. In the spirit of appeasement (and hunger), I ripped open the bag of bears and focused on my own meal. Even though broccoli-cheese soup is almost al! ways on the menu, it can vary considerably. Sometimes it’s very broccoli-y, other days it’s nearly overflowing with shredded cheddar. The freshness of the bread is inconsistent, too. On this occasion, however, it was a pretty perfectly mixed soup contained within a fresh, enjoyably doughy bowl. I ate every bit of it. And quickly, since it only took about three minutes for the Teddy Grahams to start escaping and finding shelter under the table.
In all, the monkey ate about eight cookies, two tortilla chips and one very dainty bite of sandwich, plus several sneaky swigs of my lemonade. We weren’t that surprised, though. Unless a restaurant meal involves macaroni or french fries, she’s generally not interested. Knowing this, we normally don’t splurge on the pricier kid’s menu items, like McAlister's extravagant $2.99 pizza (all of the kid’s meals are between $0.99-2.99 and include chips and those cursed Teddy Grahams; drinks are $1 more, which I think is a nice way of catering to the sippy cup crowd). She at least stayed distracted long enough for Jeff and I to eat, and the atmosphere is relaxed enough that her occasional outbursts and dance breaks (they were playing a mean classic R-and-B mix, and my monkey loves her some Barry White) went unnoticed. Separating the seating into small sections divided by curtains helps in that respect as well, although the curtains are a major monkey temptation in their own right. (You just gotta hope that the person in the adjacent table isn’t trying to close a multi-million dollar deal or settle the final details of her grandmother’s estate, but really, who would be doing that at McAlister’s? I mean, there’s a Buffalo Wild Wings just around the corner.)
On our way out, the monkey decided she needed the restroom, so I sent her off with Jeff. I usually pawn this duty off on him, so it’s hard for me to remember the state of the McAlister’s bathrooms other than “teeny tiny.” I seem to recall that, at this location, the changing table is actually in the hallway outside the bathroom, which is nice as far as space constraints but sort of disrespectful of all patrons within nuclear diaper fallout range. Anyway, after making her mandatory review of the toilet situation, the monkey was ready to leave, and she didn’t even notice the ancient gum ball I snuck out of the machine while she was gone. (I figured a stealthy sugar cookie run would be pushing our luck, never mind! trying to get out of there with any of the fiendishly tempting denizens of the dessert case.) So all in all, it was a successful trip, just like it usually is. McAlister’s isn’t anything fancy, but for not much more than the price of a couple fast-food value meals, you get a meal that tastes like it came from a recipe rather than a test tube.
McAlister’s Deli
3482 Plaza Avenue (Poplar Plaza/Poplar & Highland)
452-6009
It seems a little like cheating to review a restaurant with no wait staff, but since McAlister’s is one of our favorite quick-but-not-fast food joints in Memphis, I figured I should share the experience. We’ve been going to the McAlister’s in Poplar Plaza since our childbirth education days. We’d be starving after the 3-hour, mid-day class (okay, I was starving all the time) and it was a good place to stop before doing any other Saturday errands we needed to do, like getting dog food at Petco or buying another birth guide at Bookstar or misting up over the Old Navy clothes I couldn’t fit into. So once that belly-bulge was out in the world and grew some teeth of her own, McAlister’s seemed like a natural place to take her.
Our most recent trip was inspired by the sudden awareness that McAlister’s does a “kids eat free” deal on Tuesdays from 3-10pm. You don’t even have to ask for it; their registers are technologically barred from charging for kid’s meals during that period. I’m not sure if kids eating off the regular menu get the same deal or not. I would hope so, because the kids’ menu is pretty limited and I can’t see a 12-year-old really filling up on a pita pizza and potato chips.
I got my usual – broccoli-cheese soup in a bread bowl - and tried to steer the monkey toward something semi-healthy by getting the grilled turkey and cheese sandwich. I also ordered one of their big ol’ lemonades, which are at least sort of homemade and taste a lot better than soda-machine lemonade (yeah, I’m looking at you, Minute Maid). McAlister’s is better known for their sweet tea, but I’m not much for the caffeine and one look at that 2-liter cup makes me jittery. Jeff always gets a sandwich, and this time he chose something involving peppers and beef, I think (it’s always gone within five minutes so I don’t pay that much attention). “We” (read: Jeff) also got a nacho basket as an appetizer. The full menu is huge and pretty daunting, but the friendly counter staff is willing to answer any questions.
The drinks and chips were ready instantly, so we grabbed those and chose from one of the many available tables. This was fairly early – around 5ish – on a weekday, so be warned that regular dinner traffic can be busier. And I’d strongly advise against bringing a monkey during the weekday lunch rush. We once sat for over 45 minutes waiting for our food. They hadn’t forgotten it – they just got that backed up. Anyway, the monkey had barely finished testing all of the possible uses of our plastic order number (It’s a hat! It’s a bracelet! It’s a chair for the sugar packet people!) when our food arrived.
And now I’d like to take a moment to speak to every server in every restaurant offering a children’s menu: DON’T BRING THE FREAKIN’ DESSERT AT THE SAME TIME AS THE ENTRÉE! Okay, so calling some toast slapped over a couple turkey cuts an entrée is sort of stretching it, but still. I was hoping the monkey would get through at least half of the artistically sliced sandwich (“Ooh, it’s a pyramid, honey! Look! Eat some!”), but no, the siren song of the Teddy Grahams could not be resisted. In the spirit of appeasement (and hunger), I ripped open the bag of bears and focused on my own meal. Even though broccoli-cheese soup is almost al! ways on the menu, it can vary considerably. Sometimes it’s very broccoli-y, other days it’s nearly overflowing with shredded cheddar. The freshness of the bread is inconsistent, too. On this occasion, however, it was a pretty perfectly mixed soup contained within a fresh, enjoyably doughy bowl. I ate every bit of it. And quickly, since it only took about three minutes for the Teddy Grahams to start escaping and finding shelter under the table.
In all, the monkey ate about eight cookies, two tortilla chips and one very dainty bite of sandwich, plus several sneaky swigs of my lemonade. We weren’t that surprised, though. Unless a restaurant meal involves macaroni or french fries, she’s generally not interested. Knowing this, we normally don’t splurge on the pricier kid’s menu items, like McAlister's extravagant $2.99 pizza (all of the kid’s meals are between $0.99-2.99 and include chips and those cursed Teddy Grahams; drinks are $1 more, which I think is a nice way of catering to the sippy cup crowd). She at least stayed distracted long enough for Jeff and I to eat, and the atmosphere is relaxed enough that her occasional outbursts and dance breaks (they were playing a mean classic R-and-B mix, and my monkey loves her some Barry White) went unnoticed. Separating the seating into small sections divided by curtains helps in that respect as well, although the curtains are a major monkey temptation in their own right. (You just gotta hope that the person in the adjacent table isn’t trying to close a multi-million dollar deal or settle the final details of her grandmother’s estate, but really, who would be doing that at McAlister’s? I mean, there’s a Buffalo Wild Wings just around the corner.)
On our way out, the monkey decided she needed the restroom, so I sent her off with Jeff. I usually pawn this duty off on him, so it’s hard for me to remember the state of the McAlister’s bathrooms other than “teeny tiny.” I seem to recall that, at this location, the changing table is actually in the hallway outside the bathroom, which is nice as far as space constraints but sort of disrespectful of all patrons within nuclear diaper fallout range. Anyway, after making her mandatory review of the toilet situation, the monkey was ready to leave, and she didn’t even notice the ancient gum ball I snuck out of the machine while she was gone. (I figured a stealthy sugar cookie run would be pushing our luck, never mind! trying to get out of there with any of the fiendishly tempting denizens of the dessert case.) So all in all, it was a successful trip, just like it usually is. McAlister’s isn’t anything fancy, but for not much more than the price of a couple fast-food value meals, you get a meal that tastes like it came from a recipe rather than a test tube.
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