I have been wanting to dine here for months and months. We tried to find it in March when we were at the cabin for a long weekend, but they picked that month to be closed due to moving. Our disappointment was notable.
So we were thrilled to find it open the day before Independence Day -- heck, we were thrilled to find it, period! Then reality crashed in and trashed the party.
The food is lackluster. It's huge, and it's profoundly unhealthy, and it's freshly fried. But it is decidedly lackluster. They were out of the fish tacos, which were what I most wanted. DH's gigantic deep-fried chicken sandwich was piled high with swiss cheese and bacon, but the cheap, over-processed-white-bread bun fell apart almost immediately. They would do well to get some squishy, eggy, expensive chewy buns that can stand up to such food. DS's hamburger was supposed to have pepper jack cheese and "made to order guacamole." It had the cheese. Guacamole was conspicuously missing.
The fries were cold, limp, and tasteless.
But the worst part is the "service." It's not good. You order at a counter, and then... nothing. No one tells you what the process was. We were sitting outside [Warning: Bring your own shade, because the shade umbrellas are stacked up under a porch], and we waited and waited. The server substituted loud, fake, too-jovial conviviality for actual service. "Here's your food, bro! I'll be right back with your gumbo, dude!" He disappeared. We had no napkins, no silverware, no ketchup. DH went in the front door to try to scrounge up those things. In the meantime, the server came back, and I told him the guys were inside trying to find napkins, silverware, and ketchup, and the server yelled, "Duuuuude! I would've gotten those for you, bro! Enjoy your food, dude!"
We never saw that young man again.
Three more families arrived and sat at tables in the scorching sun.
When we were finally finished, we then sat there for a while trying to figure out what to do with the trash, plastic red baskets, and the bottle of ketchup. It really bothered me to leave a squeeze bottle of ketchup without a lid or anyway to keep bugs out of it on an open table outdoors. DH went inside to see if there were trashcans in there. He didn't find any. There was one garbage can with a lid [*not* bear proof] behind the umbrella-storage porch. So we threw away our trash in that small can, and we left our red plastic baskets and the bottle of ketchup on the table, and we left.
Won't be back. It's not the worst place in the world. It just isn't good.
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