I know what you're all thinking... have I lost my mind? Why would anyone waste their time reviewing an Applebee's? They're all exactly the same!
Well, dear reader, allow me to respond to your assessment with a resounding, "Nuh-uh." Applebee's of Athens is shoddy, shoddy, shoddy. If it were an average Applebee's, or even a particularly great Applebee's, I wouldn't spend time writing this review, because the dishes at Applebee's are designed to be tasty, with minimal effort put into preparation. The supplies are shipped to each restaurant with most of the hard work eliminated, so that putting out each individual plate is a fast, easy procedure. So, when I come across an Applebee's that can't get its act together, I feel the need to speak up.
Applebee's of Athens was an average establishment when it first opened, matching any other Applebee's in flavor and quality of each dish. However, I first noticed this past June that the quality of the food was seriously slipping. The noodles in one of my friends' chicken parmesan were overcooked, and another friend's soup portion was inadequate. Every dish had a sloppy presentation, the onion peels were soggy, and the french fries were oversalted.
Hoping that the establishment was just going through a bit of a funk, and that quality would improve over the course of a few months, I agreed to return with my sister and her friend last month. I was met with flavorless, inadequately seasoned beef, and more of those pert-near-unbearably-salty fries.
I think the issue with this particular Applebee's is that they are far too busy for their own good. It generates a lot of local interest for being the only family-style restaurant in the area. The place was packed on a Tuesday night. That probably sounds like a dream come true for any restaurant owner, but if one's management skills are limited, then it is possible for a restaurant to become overly busy, and the quality of the food can suffer.
I don't hesitate to publish an unflattering review, because a little less business might be good for the place, and because your dining experience could certainly be better. You can get a better hamburger at Whataburger for far less money. Dining at Applebee's of Athens is an unpleasant experience, and not even the attemptedly august presence of Tyler Florence's Ultimate Face staring up at you from the menu lends credit to this unprofessional establishment.
D
Mangia (at somewhere other than Applebee's of Athens)!
--Seguin
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Monday, April 2, 2007
Your blogger ruins everything, discovers a wealth of support
Thursday morning: Your blogger saw the greatest food-related disaster via misunderstanding since January 31st, when puckish Top Chef runner-up Marcel Vigneron misplaced his kona kampachi fish before the finale, and was unable to utilize it as a component in his third course. Unlike Marcel, however, my own error was not due to having two unmotivated saboteurs as sous chefs. I'm just a little dyslexic (and a little bit rock 'n roll, but that's neither here nor there).
This past week marked the annual Henderson County Livestock Show, and the attached Project Show, an arts and crafts expo open to 4-H members. Throughout the course of five very busy days, I managed to complete nine baked items for the event: a 3-layer white cake, a coconut cake, a brown sugar bundt cake, a buttermilk cake, a turtle cake, a toffee-chip cheesecake, a chocolate tart, some chocolate-glazed pecan bars, and some chocolate chunk coffee cookies. All from scratch, of course. On Wednesday, I awoke at 5:00 AM to show rabbits, arrived back home in the evening, and spent no less than 7 hours finishing all of the icings and glazes for my various offerings (only the buttermilk cake could stand alone without embellishment). I stayed up until 3:00 AM completing and assembling all of my dishes. I was awake and on my feet for 22 consecutive hours, and by the time I went to bed, my feet literally felt like they were on fire.
When I awoke just 3 hours later and packed all of my stuff, I felt triumphant that I had achieved so much, and relieved that I could go home in just an hour and take a very long nap.
Imagine my chagrin when I realized that I had arrived 45 minutes too late, and that my entries would not be accepted. I had misread the schedule, and thought that entries were due at 10:30 AM, instead of 8:30 AM. In actuality, entries were due on the grounds by 8:30, and judging was scheduled to start at 10:30. D'oh. As I put the "sexy" in "dyslexic," I did not catch that difference. I was absolutely devastated that I would not get to exhibit my projects, since cooking is one of my greatest passions. I wept. And hollered. And then I wept some more.
As I went to water and feed my rabbits, tears were still streaming down my face, and I had to explain what happened to many different people in my vicinity. My friends Eric and Jessica caught wind of the fiasco, and sought to help me through a period of great anger and disappointment in myself. They suggested that we start an impromptu bake sale for a competition that our shotgun sports 4-H club was hosting on Saturday.
It was a great relief for me to be able to do something useful with my projects, rather than just going home and having their presence be an unwanted reminder of what a fool I had been. Though, I was still a little bit upset that I would not get to hear people's comments. Because of this, I was actually relieved when a goat shower passed by our table and ripped me a new one, Anthony Bourdain-style, by informing me that the billowy icing on my white cake looked "sick... like a cream cheese frosting." I was going to shoot back at her that a cream cheese frosting is nowhere near that fluffy, but I was a bit stunned at her exhibition of such a discerning palate, since she was a rather spherical young woman.
Chunky nay-sayers aside, our table gathered a lot of interest from some very sympathetic family friends, and my items sold out in about 45 minutes (except the chocolate tart, which we had reserved to eat ourselves as celebration/therapy). We pulled in a cool $200 to go towards buying trophies and belt buckles for our competition.
At the end of the day, I realized that, what would have been a mere contest between myself and others, turned into a stirring display of goodness and charity, from the people whose idea the bake sale was, and from the chivalrous customers, each one a family friend, and each one probably not really that interested in the items for sale, but wanting to help a person in need. When I stumbled and fell, others were there to pick me up, taking what would have been a meaningless contest and turning it into a true feast of love. And that, dear readers, is exactly why I have dedicated my life to cooking and the food industry... the desire to bring people together and make them happy. Thank God for missteps such as these, which reveal themselves to be blessings.
Greatest love,
--Seguin
Mangia!
This past week marked the annual Henderson County Livestock Show, and the attached Project Show, an arts and crafts expo open to 4-H members. Throughout the course of five very busy days, I managed to complete nine baked items for the event: a 3-layer white cake, a coconut cake, a brown sugar bundt cake, a buttermilk cake, a turtle cake, a toffee-chip cheesecake, a chocolate tart, some chocolate-glazed pecan bars, and some chocolate chunk coffee cookies. All from scratch, of course. On Wednesday, I awoke at 5:00 AM to show rabbits, arrived back home in the evening, and spent no less than 7 hours finishing all of the icings and glazes for my various offerings (only the buttermilk cake could stand alone without embellishment). I stayed up until 3:00 AM completing and assembling all of my dishes. I was awake and on my feet for 22 consecutive hours, and by the time I went to bed, my feet literally felt like they were on fire.
When I awoke just 3 hours later and packed all of my stuff, I felt triumphant that I had achieved so much, and relieved that I could go home in just an hour and take a very long nap.
Imagine my chagrin when I realized that I had arrived 45 minutes too late, and that my entries would not be accepted. I had misread the schedule, and thought that entries were due at 10:30 AM, instead of 8:30 AM. In actuality, entries were due on the grounds by 8:30, and judging was scheduled to start at 10:30. D'oh. As I put the "sexy" in "dyslexic," I did not catch that difference. I was absolutely devastated that I would not get to exhibit my projects, since cooking is one of my greatest passions. I wept. And hollered. And then I wept some more.
As I went to water and feed my rabbits, tears were still streaming down my face, and I had to explain what happened to many different people in my vicinity. My friends Eric and Jessica caught wind of the fiasco, and sought to help me through a period of great anger and disappointment in myself. They suggested that we start an impromptu bake sale for a competition that our shotgun sports 4-H club was hosting on Saturday.
It was a great relief for me to be able to do something useful with my projects, rather than just going home and having their presence be an unwanted reminder of what a fool I had been. Though, I was still a little bit upset that I would not get to hear people's comments. Because of this, I was actually relieved when a goat shower passed by our table and ripped me a new one, Anthony Bourdain-style, by informing me that the billowy icing on my white cake looked "sick... like a cream cheese frosting." I was going to shoot back at her that a cream cheese frosting is nowhere near that fluffy, but I was a bit stunned at her exhibition of such a discerning palate, since she was a rather spherical young woman.
Chunky nay-sayers aside, our table gathered a lot of interest from some very sympathetic family friends, and my items sold out in about 45 minutes (except the chocolate tart, which we had reserved to eat ourselves as celebration/therapy). We pulled in a cool $200 to go towards buying trophies and belt buckles for our competition.
At the end of the day, I realized that, what would have been a mere contest between myself and others, turned into a stirring display of goodness and charity, from the people whose idea the bake sale was, and from the chivalrous customers, each one a family friend, and each one probably not really that interested in the items for sale, but wanting to help a person in need. When I stumbled and fell, others were there to pick me up, taking what would have been a meaningless contest and turning it into a true feast of love. And that, dear readers, is exactly why I have dedicated my life to cooking and the food industry... the desire to bring people together and make them happy. Thank God for missteps such as these, which reveal themselves to be blessings.
Greatest love,
--Seguin
Mangia!
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