The Problem with Chains

This weekend I went to visit my grandmother in St. Louis. As she doesn't get out too much anymore, Natasha and I decided we would take her out to lunch. As she lives in what many would consider "the hood", we had to drive several miles to find a restaurant, and were presented with three options: White Castle, Cracker Barrel or Applebees.

Now Whitey's was out for sure, it's really only good when you already have a bellyful of beer, so that left either Cracker Barrel or Applebees. Natasha, for some reason, hates Cracker Barrel with the fiery passion that I reserve only for the Missouri Tigers, Joakim Noah, and people who label their photos "Steve and I ...". That settled it, for us then, Applebees it was...


Now I haven't frequented an Applebees for a good three to four years, and I was pretty sure I wasn't going to get anything spectacular, but at the same time, I assumed there would be a minimum level of edibility. There was not.

Grandma went with the quesadilla burger and a side salad. The salad, for some reason, didn't arrive until approximately 35 seconds before the rest of our order, so the meal got off to a bad start.

I too, decided I would eat the quesadilla burger, which turns out to be a hamburger patty sandwiched between two tortillas with some salsa and cheese. While the flavor of this was okay, it looked like it was assembled at the school for the blind, the components almost randomly slapped together and then haphazardly cut in two. I would have been willing to overlook this, had the same problem not carried over to Natasha's entree.

Natasha ordered the Grilled Shrimp N' Spinach Salad (god, how I hate that cutesy little "n'"). It was supposed to look like this:


It did not.

Unfortunately, I neglected to photograph this disaster, but imagine, if you will, the above salad, literally drenched in bacon vinaigrette (read bacon grease and vinegar), with less than half the shrimp, all of which were overcooked to the point of complete char, and mixed in with massive slices of purple onions, which were no doubt cut by the same sight-impaired gentleman who assembled my burger.

It's pretty apparent that the line cook, who was by no means swamped as it was well past the lunch rush, just didn't care. This, of course, is the main problem with most chain restaurants; because they follow a preset formula for all items, there is little care or pride in preparing the food. As a result, you are served slop.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not one of these local nazis who will berate someone for eating at a chain (you know who you are). I like Buffalo Wild Wings and Sweet Tomatoes, and I think Red Robin has some of the best burgers around. I also enjoy Hardees and have been known to frequent Taco Bell on occasion.

However, trips to chain restaurants tend leave me with the same bitter taste in my mouth. Applebees, Ruby Tuesday, Chili's, TGIFriday's, they're all interchangeable, and all too often, they just don't have the same commitment to quality that their local counterparts have. And that, dear readers, is reason enough to eat locally.

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