Burger King (6400 Sawmill Road at 161)

Folks, I just came from the Burger King at Sawmill and 161, where I ate the best BK double cheeseburger I've ever eaten. And I've been eating BK double cheeseburgers a long, long time. Why, when I first ate a BK double cheeseburger, I had to ride a BMX bicycle four miles in the snow, uphill, both ways, just to get there.

OK, that's an exaggeration. When it snowed back then, I walked to BK. The point is, I know BK double cheeseburgers the way Lloyd Bentsen knew JFK, and believe me, this was an excellent double cheeseburger.

This was supposed to be a negative review. I had to run an errand in the Sawmill/161 area and I needed a quick lunch. There's a BK there where I remember getting substandard service some time ago, and I've been writing a lot of positive restaurant reviews lately. So here was a golden opportunity to write something humorously scathing, and all it would cost me is a few bucks and a little indigestion.

There was no indication I was in for such a treat when I walked into the restaurant. There was a sizable line of customers at noon, mostly blue-collar guys and moms with little ones. This BK has an indoor playground, thankfully separated from the main dining area by a nearly-soundproof glass wall.

The line moved quickly. I ordered a double cheeseburger, onion rings, and a Coke. This combo was not listed on the value menu, but the cashier rang up a combo price of $3.19. Quite a bargain.

And then I sat down, unwrapped the burger, and bit in. BK makes a big deal of their burgers being broiled and not fried, and this one tasted like it had just come off the backyard charcoal grill. Plenty of ketchup and mustard. Fresh pickles. Soft, fresh bun. The taste of mid-summer, in the dead of winter.

Now, maybe the burger was fresher than usual because BK is running commercials featuring the double cheeseburger for a buck, and everyone's ordering it. Maybe the manager runs a tight ship and the broiler is kept cleaner than most. Or maybe the anonymous fry cook (excuse me: broil cook) in the back takes an unusual amount of pride in his job. Whatever the reason, this burger was beyond good. If I had paid $8 for it at some trendy new bar and grill, I wouldn't have felt ripped off.

Given the quality of the burger and the bargain price, I really wanted to present this BK with the coveted Dublin Grease Guide Five-Spot Award. But I can't, for the following reasons:

* Two tables were too filthy to use. One was covered with spilled salt and a cardboard BK crown; the other contained some departed diner's tray and lunch trash. The BK staff probably couldn't spare a crew member to wipe tables at the height of the lunch rush, so chalk this one up to the dirtbaggery of the general public.

* One of the two drink stations was completely inoperative.

* My onion rings weren't quite hot. On the other hand, they were crispy and completely cooked, thank goodness. (Ever eaten soggy, semi-cooked BK onion rings? I have, and I never will again. Not only do they taste awful, they turn your insides into a state-of-the-art chemical warfare production facility.)

So in conclusion, I'm left with the question: does the BK at Sawmill and 161 always serve burgers this tasty, or was this was an outstanding performance from a normally mediocre shop? Are they the Muhammad Ali of broiled burgers, or merely Buster Douglas having a single moment of glory? Only repeat visits will tell. I'll go back in a month or so and write a follow-up.

UPDATE, 2/14/08: I took Cap Jr. to the Sawmill & 161 BK last Saturday so he could enjoy the indoor playground. He reports that his hamburger and fries were excellent. I tried the Tendercrisp Chicken Sandwich and found it a little disappointing. The chicken was tasty, but the bun was going stale and the tomatoes were tasteless. I'm not going to change the 4-spot rating - after all, chicken isn't Burger King's specialty. Stick to burgers and you'll have a good meal here. And if you're under 46 inches tall, enjoy the playground as well.

Lido's Buffet (Carriage Place - Bethel & Sawmill)

The road to the all-you-can-eat pizza buffet is paved with good intentions.

In an effort to make amends for all the greasy lunches I normally eat, I packed a Healthy Choice frozen dinner last week. Ostensibly, the meal contained beef tips in barbecue sauce, but it tasted more like styrofoam cubes smothered in brown ketchup. Not only was the meal lousy, but I was hungry again 90 minutes later. This experience reinforced my belief that no man should eat anything with the word "Healthy" on the box.

I made amends the next day by visiting an old favorite - Lido's Buffet in Carriage Place. Lido's has been in that location for at least fifteen years, serving up good pizza and fresh salads. There are usually other entrees as well, such as wings, popcorn shrimp, stromboli, or pasta, and good homemade soup.

Lido missed the boat that day, he left the shack
But that was all he missed, he ain't comin' back...

Remember Boz Scaggs' "Lido Shuffle"? No? Then you're quite a bit younger than I am.

I invited a coworker who's a fan of Cici's Pizza. Cici's provides good service and a variety of pies at a bargain price, but to me, their crust always tastes like high school cafeteria pizza. I didn't like high school cafeteria pizza even when I was in high school, so I hoped the extra driving distance to Lido's would pay off.

Lido's didn't let me down. The restaurant looks the same as it always has - dark-green carpet, burgundy wallpaper, and as many booths and tables as they can cram into a strip-mall restaurant. And they need as many seats as they can get, because even on a Wednesday, the place was packed with customers by noon.

We passed through the buffet from right to left, and here's what we found:

* Fresh salad greens (mostly iceberg lettuce) with a variety of toppings and dressings
* Three kinds of pizza: one pepperoni, one pep and sausage, one veggie "half and half" with green peppers and onions on one half and diced tomatoes and onions on the other
* Italian wedding soup
* Chicken wings
* A penne pasta dish with diced chicken in a cheesy white sauce

Lido's pizza offers a well-baked crust of medium thickness and plenty of cheese - a good delivery-quality pie. And it's always fresh, because the crowd depletes the pizza station so fast that the cooks can barely keep up. Somehow they do - about the time the station was down to its last slice, a cook brought fresh pie from the kitchen.

The salad was unremarkable, but all the ingredients were fresh. And isn't that all that's important, given the strictly supporting role salad plays at a pizza buffet?

The penne pasta dish was a pleasant surprise - a little lukewarm, but very tasty. I ate so much of it I didn't have room to try the soup.

My coworker reports that the wings were "much better than BW-3." I've had good wings and lousy wings at BW-3, so take his comment with a grain of salt and a Wet-Nap.

The soda glasses are huge - a nice touch, given that some buffets give you a Dixie cup of Pepsi and look askance at you when you expect three refills. No refills necessary at Lido's, unless sixty ounces of high-fructose corn syrup isn't enough for you.

So why four grease spots instead of five? Two reasons. First, our server never brought us silverware or napkins, which we sourced from the buffet. Other diners were provided with a fork and knife wrapped in a napkin. Like Joe Pesci in GoodFellas, I hate being on the "pay no mind" list. Second, with drink and tip, the price is dangerously close to $10/person. Lido's once encouraged regulars to return by providing "$1 off" coupons, good for your next visit. Apparently they've stopped that - unless our coupons were off someplace with our silverware.

Lido be runnin' havin' great big fun
'Til he got the note...

This is the end of an era for me, because for years, I've never been without a Lido's coupon in my wallet. The food's still good, so I'll go back to Lido's - but probably not as often as I once did. Enjoy the buffet, but don't expect much change back from a ten-dollar bill.

Rally's (4799 Sawmill Road)

If you've lived in Columbus long enough, you've seen a lot of fast-food chains come and go, such as Burger Chef, G.D. Ritzy's, Rax, Sister's, Zantigo, and Big Bite. Most of these failed because they offered a redundant or inferior product to the industry leaders, often at a premium price. Others seemed like sure-fire hits (remember G.D. Ritzy's shoestring fries and ice-cream bar?), but failed anyway.

And some chains, like MacArthur's old soldiers, never die - they just fade away. Rally's once operated many restaurants in the Columbus suburbs with diner-like red vinyl booths and black formica tables. They now offer only drive-thru service, and the only remaining locations seem to be scattered through the inner city and the far West Side. Rally's provided good burgers at reasonable prices, and their battered fries were a unique menu item. Why didn't they succeed?

A quick Google search reveals there's still a Rally's at Bethel and Sawmill. Perhaps a visit will help solve this mystery.

The Sawmill Rally's is a little white hut with drive-thrus on both sides of the building and a couple of picnic tables out front, should anyone should want to enjoy the 20-degree temperatures. The double drive-thru would be a nice time-saving touch if I had a passenger who cared to place the order for me. I'm dining solo mio today, so I take the right-hand line. The wait wasn't an issue anyway - at noon, there were only two cars ahead of me. I imagine being served yesterday's burger on a stale bun due to slow sales and wonder if I've made a mistake.

Things began to look up when I pulled up to the speaker. A sweet, sultry female voice greeted me with "Welcome to Rally's, would you like to try a double deal today?" It's always a good sign when the drive-thru cashier has a good attitude and doesn't mumble. It's a bonus if she sounds as if she might look like Beyonce Knowles or Pam Grier. I quickly scanned the menu. The Rally-Q was my old favorite from college days: a Sloppy-Joe-like sandwich of crumbled beef slathered in mild barbecue sauce, sold for 79 cents. It's gone now, but the Rallyburger and Big Buford are still available, along with new (to me) items including fish and chicken sandwiches and hot dogs. I ordered a small-sized Rallyburger combo meal.

I pulled forward to find that while the cashier didn't look like Beyonce, she did have a kind smile and a pleasant, professional demeanor not often found in fast-food service. She quickly made my change (total bill: under $4!), handed me my bag full of greasy goodness, and sent me on my way. Now - where to eat? I remembered that Griggs Reservoir Park runs the length of Riverside Drive from Hayden Run to Fishinger, with scenic overlooks of the Scioto River - as scenic as Ohio in January gets.

I find a nice spot along the east bank of the Scioto. In the summer, there are ducks, geese, joggers, dog-walkers, and picnickers. On this frigid day, there's just me, eating in the car. I decide to start with the fries. Rally's fries are battered to a light crisp and seasoned with lots of pepper. These were hot and tasty, just as I remembered them, with a flavor unlike the fries at any other quick-service restaurant. So far, so good.

Time to move on to the burger, which is wrapped in foil rather than paper to better hold the heat - a crucial concern for a drive-thru-only establishment. Sure enough, my burger was still nice and hot. The bun was fresh, though mashed a bit; the patty was flavorful, but a little too greasy. Toppings included cheese, lettuce (a little limp), tomato (fresh, but flavorless), red onions (crisp and strong), ketchup and mayo (plentiful - again, crucial for a restaurant that has no condiment bar). The Coke was a little flat, but not undrinkably so.

In summary, the Sawmill Rally's provided a good (though not great) meal at a very reasonable price with excellent service. If my experience is representative of the chain as a whole, then I remain stumped as to why the suburban eat-in Rally's locations failed. Maybe the Rally-Q was the karmic keystone holding the Rally's chain together, and pulling it from the menu started the long, slow decline.

McDonald's, Perimeter Loop

6830 Perimeter Loop Rd
Dublin 43017



Seriously, there's a McDonald's off Avery Road. Caspar and I had time for a quick, greasy lunch today, and Arches is always on the short list of stops. Given that I've already reviewed our favorite McHaunt, we thought we'd try another location -- for your sake. I suggested Tuttle, and Caspar noted there was one in the Perimeter area. I told him he was daft, that there's a Wendy's and a BK, but surely no Arches -- how could I have missed it all these years?

Well it is indeed there, we dined there, and here are some observations. First, I've missed it all these years because the big golden M in the red field is not allowed to exist in this part of Dublin. All signage is brown and small, including signs to get back on the freeway (it's close to Muirfield, meaning rich golfers and golfer wannabe's don't like to know where they're going). So lost in a sea of brown and brick was a McDonald's situated in the Giant Eagle shopping plaza.

Once you've sighted it, getting there is still another challenge when going north on Avery -- you make a right into the shopping plaza and then need to make an immediate left, cutting across traffic turning into the plaza from the southbound lanes. Messy, but no great obstacle if great grease is to be had. Unfortunately, the dining experience left much to be desired.

The place is the Toyota RAV-4 of McDonald's franchises: too damn small to be useful. I ordered my Big Mac meal (I always go with that at a new franchise to test their version of the flagship product) and turned to grab a seat... and found there were none. The restaurant has an odd L-shape, and I wandered around the corner and that side was packed too. No seats. At 11:40. It seemed to have the same amount of capacity as your average Subway strip mall franchise. What the hell do you do at a fast-food restaurant standing there with your tray when you have no place to sit? I was heading over the counter to get a bag when eagle-eyed Caspar spied a hidden (unwiped) bar-height table by itself between a wall and the vestibule. Fortunately the folks coming in behind us all ordered to-go. Perhaps they knew the drill.

Caspar's shorter stature was an obvious hindrance at this location. The drink lids are located unconventionally above the drink dispenser, which is easily missed if your eye-level is lower. Also, the bar-height table and stools were ill-equipped with foot-rests. There were none on the table and the ones on the chairs were quite low, such that Caspar's feet had nowhere to perch.

"What the hell do you suppose that is?" is not one of the top questions I like to have asked of me during a meal, and we agreed to pretend to not notice whatever it was that was stuck to Caspar's tray. In general, the place had a decent decor and was fundamentally clean (no old dirt), but there were numerous places where small, new messes were not attended to. So why three grease spots instead of two?

Because it's all about the food. And the food was pretty good. The Big Mac was a very good specimen of its kind: fresh bun, served hot, sauce evenly applied, and juicy patties. The fries were typical Arches, which is to say quite good. We were served quickly by friendly staff, and as we exited, one of the cashiers yelled out to us to have a good day (mind you we had not made eye contact such that she'd feel compelled to say anything, she just called after us). Nice touch.

If you get friendly service and a good hot meal, the rest becomes less important. I don't think it can replace our staple location on 161, but it'll do in a pinch.

ADDENDUM: This does not typically concern us, but it's worth noting that all three aforementioned McDonald's locations (Tuttle Crossing, 161(Bridge St), and Avery/Perimeter have Wi-Fi access.

Arby's (5864 Sawmill Road)

"A Tale of Two Arby's"
It was the best of meals, it was the worst of meals...

Last week, my wife surprised me by calling to ask if I'd be interested in meeting her for lunch. The only catch was that we had to eat at Arby's, the favorite restaurant of my four-year-old son, Cap Jr. I had my reservations, given the bad experience I'd had at the Hilliard-Cemetery Arby's, but I agreed.

We met at the Arby's on Sawmill Road near Home Depot at noon. The line was fairly long, but the cashiers were quick, friendly, and efficient. That's right, cashiers - this restaurant had two registers open to better handle the lunch rush. The Sawmill Arby's also has duplicate soda fountains and condiment stations. Mountain Dew and Horsey Sauce, no waiting.

The dining area was the nicest I've seen in any fast-food restaurant. Dark hardwoods, tasteful carpeting, green plants everywhere, a glass-ceilinged atrium in the center of the restaurant, and convincing faux-leather booths. Many full-service chain restaurants aren't this well furnished. Quite a difference from the Hilliard-Cemetery location.

For fast fare, the food was first-rate. I ordered the philly-beef toasted sub, which features Arby's roast beef on a toasted ciabatta roll, roasted onions, crisp bell peppers, and garlic mayonnaise. Delicious. I also had Arby's signature side - potato cakes. Depending on where you get them, these hash-brown-like triangular cakes of shredded potatoes can be underdone and chewy, or overdone and bitterly crunchy. Like Goldilocks' bed, these potato cakes were just right.

The lovely, health-conscious Mrs. Fine-Burger had a Martha's Vineyard salad: grape tomatoes, diced apples, dried cranberries, and shredded cheese on a bed of lettuce. Unlike many fast-food salads, this one contained romaine lettuce as well as iceberg lettuce, and there were no wilted brown spots to be seen. The Martha's Vineyard salad also contained slices of chicken (probably from Arby's chicken filet sandwich). Mrs. F-B reports that the chicken was well-cooked and lean, which is crucial to a good salad. After all, nothing ruins the illusion of healthy eating like biting into a chewy, gelatinous piece of chicken fat.

Cap Jr. had the Arby's Kid's Meal: a junior roast-beef sandwich, curly fries, and a juice box. Cap's meal looked as tasty and well-prepared as mine. He was happy with the food, but disappointed that the "surprise" was two plastic Arby's cowboy-hat logos that could be linked together. Not much fun. A critic has to say something negative about any restaurant. When you're reduced to criticizing the toy in the kid's meal, you know you've had a good fast-food dining experience.

The check was under $16. That's a little high for a fast-food meal for three, but well worth it considering the quality of the meal. If the economy truly turns Dickensian, you might consider saving a few bucks by forgoing the sit-down chain restaurants and taking the family to the Sawmill Arby's.

Chipotle (Perimeter Loop)

I got a brief glimpse today of what life will be like when I'm an old man. I'll be moving at what I think is a brisk pace, while the rude and frantic world hustles and shouts in a maelstrom all around me. What's that? I couldn't hear you. Lean closer, I don't want to shout. Hold your horses. I'm moving as fast as I can.

No, I didn't travel forty years into my own future, but I did visit the Chipotle in the Giant Eagle shopping center at Perimeter Loop. I was having an unusually productive day at work and didn't want to waste a great deal of time feeding my face. A burrito to go - that's the answer.

When I arrived just past noon, the line nearly reached the door. That's understandable. Chipotle is tasty and cheap - of course they're going to attract a lot of customers. But do they all have to shout - into cell phones, across the restaurant, at a friend standing two feet away? And does every surface in the restaurant have to be stainless steel, hardwood, or concrete, so the noise level is amplified? Tom Brady couldn't call a play in there without a bullhorn.

When I reached the order counter, I saw the Burrito Assembly Specialist's lips move, but I couldn't hear her above the din. Fortunately every Chipotle has giant signage above the counter explaining how to order. "I'll have a fajita burrito with carnitas, please," I shouted.

Scoot right to another Burrito Assembly Specialist, who didn't bother to speak, but merely looked at me expectantly. Time to shout more instructions. "Corn salsa, please. Sour cream. Cheese. Lettuce. No guacamole, thanks." The girl to my left keeps bumping me. Does she think that'll make this process go faster? Maybe she thinks I'm a hottie. Yeah, I'm sure that's it.

Then down to the cashier, who tried to charge me something like $15. Apparently she thought I'd like to pick up the tab for Bumpty Girl. "I'm just buying just that burrito, to go," I shouted, pointing at my lunch. She made a Simon Cowell face, then re-rang the purchase for just under $6. That's more like it. I bought 35 cents worth of karma by dropping my change in the now-ubiquitous "TIPS" can, jostled my way past the ten or twelve people standing around by the soda fountain and condiment stand, and made my way back to the car, muttering under my breath, the January air freezing the frown on my face.

And then I got back to work, sat down, peeled the foil from my still-hot burrito, and took a bite. Ahh. Taste buds awakening...heart rate slowing...anger subsiding. Chipotle is simply in a class of its own when it comes to fast-food quality. That soft, warm tortilla. That fresh rice, with a hint of lime. The lean, well-seasoned pork. Green peppers that snap when you bite into them. The sweet and mildly spicy corn salsa. Fantastic. Halfway through, I noticed they forgot the lettuce, but I didn't care. The portion size is so big, any normal person should really throw away the final six bites, but I thought of the starving children in Africa and finished the whole thing.

Fantastic taste for under $6. Forty minutes from the time I left my desk to the time I returned to work. Isn't that exactly what this blog is all about? If you have a high tolerance for noise and hassle, you can expect a great meal for chump change at the Perimeter Loop Chipotle. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lie down, take some Doan's Pills, and watch some Andy Griffith.

Burger King (Mill Run)

If you care enough about cheap, greasy food to read this blog, you know that all franchise restaurants are not created equal. When I was a senior at Ohio State, I lived in Westerville and worked an internship in Hilliard, and was thus a regular customer at three Burger King restaurants: North Campus, Sunbury Road, and Mill Run. There was such a vast difference in quality among these three stores that I wondered how they could be part of the same chain.

Mill Run could always be relied upon to provide good service and tasty food. Sunbury Road was lousy, but it was so convenient to my home that I kept trying it in hopes that it would improve. North Campus was hit-and-miss. Eventually I stopped visiting North Campus and Sunbury Road entirely. The quality of the food at Mill Run was so much better that, if I had a craving for a Whopper (insert off-color joke here), I'd wait for my next scheduled work day in Hilliard rather than pay for a substandard meal.

Today I had to run from Dublin to West Broad for some parts to repair my clothes dryer. Returning on 270, with an empty belly and pressed for time, I remembered that my old favorite BK was just half a mile from the Hilliard-Cemetery exit. Could Mill Run still deliver the goods after all these years?

The full parking lot was certainly encouraging. I grabbed the last available space, my little American econosedan lost in a sea of full-size pickups and white cargo vans. For some reason, BK seems to attract a blue-collar clientele, while Wendy's appeals more to the Office Space crowd. I waited in line behind two guys in Dickies gear debating the merits of the Dodge truck with the Cummins turbodiesel engine versus the Ford with the Powerstroke. If I needed a vehicle that could tow 20,000 lbs - which I don't - I'd go for the Chevy with the Duramax. (After all, this is ouuuuuuuur count-reeeee.) Given that both men used good English and had complete sets of teeth, I could probably have voiced my support for the Chevy without being punched in the face - but why take the chance?

The counter girl spoke just enough English to take my order properly and make the correct change. What more can you ask, really? I ordered a Whopper combo with cheese and headed for the soda station - a dual soda station, actually, which is a nice touch. Nobody likes to stand there holding a full tray of food, waiting for some soccer mom to fill up four kid-sized cups of Hi-C. The decor is definitely old-school BK - hard-formed fiberglass booths with tables supported by a single center post cemented in place. The place was clean, though, and after all, we're talking about Burger King, not Cameron's Steakhouse. Time to sit down and eat.

Now any ol' BK can provide hot flame-broiled patties; what makes or breaks a Whopper is the quality of the toppings and freshness of the bun. The lettuce was crisp, the tomatoes ripe, the onions flavorful without being bitter, the bun was soft and warm, and ketchup and mayo were distributed nicely. On the whole, a fine example of BK's signature sandwich.

The fries were hot and fresh, though they had a slightly fishy taste. Maybe Mill Run uses the same vat to fry the Big Fish filets that they use for french fries? Maybe they're trying out some new trans-fat-free oil? Whatever the reason, if you like the Big Fish sandwich, you'll like the fries, and if you don't, you won't.

Fifteen minutes later, I was back in the car and on my way. The good old Burger King at Mill Run gave me exactly what I needed: a hot, tasty meal, served quickly, for less than $5. No wonder it seems to be the favorite of Hilliard's contractors and construction workers. God bless the things in this world that don't change.

As for the Sunbury Road BK? Apparently I wasn't the only one who swore off eating there. It was torn down a few years ago and replaced by a fairly good Arby's.

E Chen's (Karric Square/Frantz Road)

The thought occurred to me, as I was enjoying my second plate of Asian lardy goodness at E Chen's, that food is the only substance nearly everyone abuses. We look down our noses at crack addicts and dumpster-diving winos, but we all like to gorge ourselves at lunch from time to time, especially if we've had a bad day.

And I'd had the kind of morning at work that would drive a man to go drink until he pukes up his pancreas, or smoke green plants until Kid Rock lyrics sound profound. Except that a responsible head-of-household is supposed to be beyond that sort of thing...ahem. So I decided to escape the blues by visiting E Chen's all-you-can-eat Asian buffet in Karric Square. At least I called a friend to join me. They say if you gorge alone, it's an indication that you have a problem.

I've worked in Dublin since 2005, and I have found no better Asian buffet in the Northwest area than E Chen's. The staff is friendly and efficient. The restaurant is clean, well-decorated, and large, and by request, you can be seated in a back room where ESPN is shown on two giant projection televisions.

The buffet consists of four large serving stations under a sky-blue painted ceiling. It gleams like a leprechaun's pot of gold, or Chad Johnson's grille. The stations are thoughtfully spaced, so there's plenty of room to serve yourself without jostling and bumping other patrons, even at the height of lunch hour. Which is a crucial consideration, given the ample dimensions of many buffet regulars.

As for the food:
* The hot and sour soup was hot. Sour, too.
* The spring rolls were terrific.
* The General Tso's chicken was lean and fresh. Some buffets use such fatty chicken that you suspect them of battering globs of chicken fat and passing them off - not E Chen's. General Tso wouldn't stand for that, and neither should you.
* The Mala string beans were also fresh - bright green and resilient to the touch, not the sad, wrinkly, dark-green leftovers I've had elsewhere. I chose them mainly to kid myself that I was eating healthy.
* I'm sorry I didn't note the official name of the pulled-pork-and-onions dish, but it's always available, and it's my favorite. Lean pork in a sweet and slightly spicy brown sauce with fresh onions. Great stuff.
* There's a combo dish of chopped link sausage, peppers, and onions that was also very good. Onions are a great defense mechanism against demanding coworkers.
* There was pizza, but I didn't try it, just as I wouldn't try Kung Pao if they served it at Pizza Hut.
* There was sushi, but I'm an uncultured Midwesterner who can't bring himself to eat raw fish. I also have a shellfish allergy that causes me to, well, die. My dining buddy said the sushi was excellent.
* There were tasty-looking brownies and cakes and soft-serve ice cream for dessert, but after two plates of entrees and a bowl of soup, I couldn't eat another bite. I was lucky I could move without the aid of a Hoveround.
* The staff did a fine job of replenishing the serving trays. I never saw one less than 1/4 full.

Even with a $2 tip, the check was under $9. A little more than I like to spend at lunch, but I knew no simple sandwich could bring me out of my work-induced doldrums like E Chen's - a virtual opium den of Asian culinary goodness in unlimited quantities.

Mmm... Bacon

Everything is better with bacon. It's a well-known fact. The other day we had a bacon smorgasbord where a number of folks here at the office cooked up different varieties of bacon and chowed down. No eggs or toast. Just bacon. I know it's strange, but let's just let that go. So this will not be a restaurant review, but I thought the experience relevant, special (try it in YOUR office!) and important.

I like bacon. Quite a lot, actually. But I'm a bit of a fuss about it. Bacon should be crispy, not chewy. Unfortunately, there are few in the fast-food genre of restaurants that can get the job done (I submit that none of the Big Three can do it, though Caspar might argue Wendy's does it decently). Our baconfest featured three varieties of bacon: regular, turkey, and veggie. The regular turned out soggy. It's probably hard to get it right when you're pressed for time, cooking for a large number of people, and bacon is not your main business. Which is probably also why the chains can't get it right.

But I wanted to focus on the other two varieties. Turkey bacon. Let me be clear. This is nasty crap. I don't know who invented it, or what part of the turkey it comes from, but it tastes like neither turkey nor bacon. More like a Snausage. Didn't help that it wound up soggy too.

Given that I was 0 for 2 on the bacons that actually contained meat, my hopes weren't all that high for veggie bacon. In fact, they were rock bottom, so please keep that in mind as you continue reading. Amazingly, it really wasn't all that bad. It was microwaved and crispy. Didn't taste a lot like bacon, but it had a similarity, and it had a flavor that was surprisingly not horrendous. I asked a few people what was in it, and nobody seemed to know, but all assumed some sort of soy product. I pressed the person who brought it, and she had little more to offer, "Whatever Morningstar Farms puts in there." Kind of like how I'd answer a question about Twinkie ingredients: "um, it's got whatever sun-shiney goodness Hostess puts in there."

What's more unnatural, really, a Twinkie or vegetarian bacon? If Twinkies existed in nature, I don't think anyone would feel the need to re-engineer them. But here we have perfectly natural pork bellies that should be consumed (you know, the way the Eskimos don't waste any of the whale), but someone decided that highly processed soy molded into strips and cooked with radiation would be more "natural." It's crazy-talk, and I'd complain more -- maybe start a "Save a Soybean, eat Bacon" campaign -- but it ain't that bad. So there you have it, my first semi-pro-vegetarian review. But if you ever try it, remember: it'll taste better if you keep the expectations low.

Cluck-a-Doodle-Doo (Mall at Tuttle Crossing)

5043 Tuttle Crossing Blvd, Dublin OH



I've had more than my share of mall food lately, but needed to pick up a gift card from Sears today, and a man's got to eat. I decided to visit a little chicken and burger shop in the food court called Cluck-a-Doodle-Doo. They're local and have an additional location somewhere in the OSU campus area. As I approached I was surprised to see the former proprietor of Pop's Country Fare, the previous tenant of Cluck's space, collecting an order of chicken tenders (which he rates quite highly).

Cluck's has an impressive menu of barnyard (and other) animal products, from chicken to burgers to fish, not to mention salads, appetizers (jalapeno poppers, mozzarella sticks), and interesting sides (waffle fries, mashed potatoes). They also offer vegetarian fare for those crazy enough to forego meat.

All meals are cooked to order, which is a bit awkward in a food court made for fast food. You need to stand around for a few minutes while your food is cooked, but there's no avoiding the situation if you want fresh food and a variety of options.

I went for the chicken sandwich with a side of waffle fries. I was immediately impressed with the sheer quantity of food. I received two regular-sized paper plates on my tray. The first was completely full with a heaping pile of waffle fries. A LOT of fries. Now I like fries. I will get a large order of fries anywhere and NEVER leave one on my plate. But this was really enough for two people who like fries, and I wound up throwing half of them away. Taste-wise they were good but not great. Salted a bit unevenly so that some were extremely salty while others seemed to have none at all. Ketchup is an issue, as they give out a few packets instead of having self-serve condiments. I ran out quickly and therefore turned my attention to the sandwich, which was also a mixed bag.

The chicken sandwich is a nicely-breaded whole breast of chicken, fried and served on an enormous hamberger bun (the radius has to be 50% bigger than a standard bun), with lettuce, tomato, and mayo. I wasn't asked if that's what I wanted, though coincidentally, it's what I like. Given that they use an entire chicken breast (long and skinny) and a big, round bun, you wind up with chicken sticking out an inch or so on two sides, and have an inch or so of no chicken on the other sides. Not a real problem, but can make for some messy eating as the chicken slides about in an ill-fitting bun. The larger issue was that they used an entire chicken breast, with tapered ends that get overcooked. Which is a shame because the bulk of the sandwich is excellent. Juicy and well-seasoned, it may be a better sandwich than Chick-fil-A.

My advice is give it a shot, and cut off the ends of your chicken before eating. I think you'll also want to experiment with a different side. You can get fries anywhere, and these are nothing to write home about. See how the mac and cheese or mashed potatoes are. Unfortunately, you may have to try this quickly, as I don't think they'll be around at this location long. There were very few people placing orders during peak lunch hours, and given their very reasonable prices (my combo meal was $6.50), I can't see how they make the balance sheet work, and suspect it doesn't.

Subway (Mall at Tuttle Crossing)

5043 Tuttle Crossing Blvd, Dublin, OH

There is something to be said for keeping it simple, and not trying to be all things to all people. This is easier said than done when consumers always want more, often just for the sake of having it. Children give us a view into this condition. Younger ones will want something, and you'll say "you can get it." And they'll say, "No, I want YOU to get it."

Older ones are less obvious about it. "Can I have ice cream?"
"Sure. Get it yourself."
"Actually, I don't need any."

There's something nice about having people do things for us. To the extent that we'll unconsciously have them do things we don't even really want.

This is a long way to go to get to my criticism (or lack thereof) of my Subway experience today. I hadn't been to Subway for some time as the last several sandwiches I've had at various locations seemed sub-par. I always used to like Subway. What changed? Well what changed was that threatened by Quiznos, Subway decided they needed to add a feature to compete, that being the Siren song of the toasted sub. I call it a Siren song because it is seductive, tantalizing, and destructive (if you don't get the reference, stop reading this right now, buy The Odyssey of Homer, and vote against your local school board). More in a moment.

Today I ordered a six-inch roast beef on wheat, with provolone, lettuce, tomato and mayo. This is my equivalent of a rice cake. It's about as healthy as I eat. Then came the question: "Would you like that toasted?" That's programmed into my DNA as being an automatic YES, just like "Would you like to add bacon?" or "Can I get you another round?" How could I resist? Fortunately, I came to the counter prepared, reminding myself as I stood in line, "do not get it toasted, do not get it toasted, do not get it toasted," and was able get a "No thanks" out before it was too late.

In short, the Subway toasted sub is not the Quizno's toasted sub. It tastes like you toasted some bread, then microwaved it. Let's clear up any confusion that may be out there: you don't microwave bread. It one of those things you don't do. You could write a song about it:

You don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger and
You don't microwave your bread

Microwaved bread becomes uneven: at once too hard, too soft, and too chewy. Microwaving bread is the perfect way to ruin any sandwich. But Subway doesn't use a microwave, they use a patented "Rapid Toaster" -- which could not get picked out of a lineup of industrial microwaves. Quiznos runs their sandwiches over high heat via a conveyor belt. It's simple, but effective. I don't know the mechanics of the Subway Rapid Toaster, but it succeeds in melting cheese, browning the bread... and making it taste microwaved.

This is a lesson I should have learned after my first toasted Subway sandwich. But I probably chalked it up to being an inferior franchise and stale bread. I should have learned after my second toasted sandwich tasted crappy, but the next time they asked me those same five words, "Would you like that toasted?" and not having thought about it, had to say yes. Now if a disaster occurred and I were living like Will Smith in I am Legend, and made my way through the rubble to an empty Subway, would I ever create my own sub, and upon completion even think to place it into that sandwich-death-trap? Of course not. But she said, "would you like to have that toasted?" not "would you like to have that ruined in the microwave?" So I did it again. Maybe this Subway-patented non-microwave would be different from all the others. I could only blame myself for the resulting ham and swiss on cardboard.

Today I said no. Today I had a lovely, fresh sandwich. The meat was good. The lettuce was a vivid green. The tomatoes had no green. And the bread was, thankfully, as bread should be.

We all sometimes yearn for simpler times. Perhaps it will take the smallest of baby-steps to get there. Keep your Blackberry. Rent your dog. Day-trade online. But for goodness sake, say no to toasting.

Arby's (Hilliard-Cemetery Road)

There's an episode of the Simpsons in which Bart and his classmates end up stranded on a desert island.* Like their counterparts in The Lord of the Flies, the kids enjoy their freedom initially, but they soon run out of food. In hunger and despair, one of them grumbles, "I'm so hungry, I could eat at Arby's."

I've always had a soft spot for Arby's. Maybe it's because Arby's is native to the Buckeye State (the first restaurant opened in Boardman, OH, in 1961). Maybe it's because my grandfather liked Arby's, so when I was a boy, a visit from Grampa always meant I'd get a roast-beef sandwich and fries for dinner instead of Hamburger Helper or Chef Boyardee. Or maybe it's because you have to be a fan of any restaurant that makes horseradish sauce available to its customers via a spigot. Homer Simpson would love it. Mmm...Horsey Sauce.

So while I love the Simpsons as much as the next guy, I never understood its screenwriters' disdain for one of my favorite fast-food restaurants. Until recently, that is, when I visited the Arby's on Hilliard-Cemetery Road. The first thing I noticed upon walking in was the pungent stench of a clogged grease trap. Something's burnin'...something's burnin'... Quite an appetite killer.

The second thing I noticed was that the cashier was a dead ringer for Cletus, the Slack-Jawed Yokel, the Simpsons' stereotypical hillbilly, but without Cletus' shine-swilling charm. Despite his flat-eyed stare, the cashier did take my order correctly and make the proper change, so perhaps I'm being too hard on him.

The third thing I noticed was the decor. Many Arby's locations have been renovated with tasteful carpet, rich-looking dark brown artificial-leather booths, green plants, and skylights. This location apparently didn't get the memo. Most of the walls and carpeting were Modern Office Cubicle Gray. Gee, nothing like escaping the cold, gray office to have lunch in a cold, gray restaurant.

Of course, none of this matters much if the food is tasty...which, unfortunately, it wasn't. I ordered a Beef and Cheddar sandwich, whose bun was stale enough to fail the Flick Test. (Next time you order a fast-food sandwich, gently flick the bun. If it sounds like you're flicking a kitchen countertop, you've been cheated. D'oh!) The roast beef was warm and fully cooked, but the cheddar sauce was concentrated in one drippity dollop at the edge of the sandwich. Good thing I had plenty of Horsey Sauce on hand to balance things out. The curly fries were lukewarm, a fast-food sin for which there is no good excuse. Adding insult to injury was the fact that the Cemetery Road store has the highest menu prices I've seen at any greater Columbus Arby's.

On the plus side, the restaurant wasn't overly crowded, even at the height of the lunch rush. I can't imagine why.

Next time you get a hankering for slow-roasted, freshly sliced roast beef on a bun, skip the Cemetery Road location. If you're going to pay premium fast-food prices, you have a right to expect premium fast-food quality.

*Thanks to the magic of the Internet, I can tell you the episode in question is #5F11, titled "Das Bus," which originally aired on Fox on Feb. 15, 1998.

Wendy's (Perimeter Loop, aka Hospital Drive)

Once upon a time in America, Van Halen ruled the airwaves, Crockett and Tubbs kept the streets of Miami safe, and Wendy's was the undisputed king of fast-food quality. Hungry customers could count on a burger topped with crisp veggies on a soft, fresh bun with a side of freshly-made fries, salted to perfection. One might hit a Burger King or a McDonald's for variety's sake, but only Wendy's could be relied upon for a top-notch fast-food dining experience.

In the era of iPods and CSI: Everywhere, there's no guarantee that a visit to the smiling girl in the red pigtails will result in a good meal. Soggy fries, stale buns, limp lettuce, and inaccurate order-filling have spoiled several recent Wendy's visits for me. In the post-Dave Thomas era, Wendy's seems to have lost its way, and management appears to be scrambling for a solution.

Fortunately, there are a few locations around still doing it Dave's Way. Judging by my last visit, the Wendy's at Perimeter is one such restaurant. Hoping for an 80's-style experience, I ordered the #1 combo: a single with cheese, fries, and a Coke. The patty was hot and greasy enough to be flavorful, yet not greasy enough to foul the bun. The lettuce, tomato and onions were crisp and tasty and the fries were cooked to perfection. If I had to pick nits, I'd point to the sad little smear of ketchup in the center of the burger, but that was easily rectified with a trip to the condiments bar.

A coworker who dined with me ordered the Baconator. He reports that it was tasty, though he couldn't finish it. I can't bring myself to try the Baconator, because I have never forgiven it for bumping the Big Bacon Classic from the menu. The Big Bacon Classic was a single with a Kaiser bun, cheese, lettuce, tomato, onion, and three strips of bacon, perfect in its simplicity before the Wendy's marketing folks robbed it of its veggies and loaded it with an additional 1/4-lb patty, another slice of cheese, and three more strips of bacon and renamed it the Baconator. Why, Wendy's? Why give the Michael Moores and Morgan Spurlocks of the world more ammunition in their war against Big Grease? Did anyone ever sit down to eat a Big Bacon Classic with fries and get up complaining that he was still hungry? If Clara Peller tried a Baconator, she wouldn't ask where the beef was — she'd gag on it. Curse you, Baconator, you monument to 21st-century excess...

Where was I? Oh, right - the Perimeter Wendy's. The counter staff was friendly and efficient, the condiment bar well-stocked, and the dining room clean and spacious. This location shares space with Wendy's poor donut-peddling cousin Tim Horton, and there's always plenty of seats on Tim's side of the building should the Wendy's side fill up. Unfortunately, this space-sharing arrangement means that from 11:45 to 1:00, the parking lot is gridlocked with two intertwining lines of cars waiting for the dual drive-thru windows. If you don't have time to dine in, arrive early to avoid the hassle.

Wendy's executives looking to restore the chain to the glory it enjoyed in the Reagan era would do well to have a meal at the Perimeter Wendy's, then brainstorm on ways to propagate this quality to all locations. And take the geek in the pigtailed wig from the current ads — please.

Sbarro's (Mall at Tuttle Crossing)

5043 Tuttle Crossing Blvd, Dublin, OH

I'm a sucker for a big slice of New York-style pizza. It's the simplest damn thing, but one of life's great pleasures. Alas, a good slice is hard to find. My monthly temptation is Sbarro, located quite close by and purporting to be the real deal.

What I usually find, unfortunately, is that once again they have not lived up to expectations. I have a vague recollection of getting decent pizza there at some point in my life. Perhaps I was drinking at the time. Nonetheless, every month, I check to see if the fast-food turnover has worked in my favor. I usually see new faces, but get the same pizza.

More investigation of the franchise at large is in order, but the Sbarro's at the mall has a particular problem, which they manage to compound. First, it always seems undercooked. My New York friends will always call in a pizza order and ask for "a pie, well-done." Gives the cheese and the crust a bit more crisp. I don't need that. I just like to avoid eating raw dough.

When you order your slice or two (they do look so tasty sitting there in front of you), the guy behind the counter whisks them away and sticks them in the oven to warm up. However, they never seem to keep them in there long enough, and the undercooked pizza you get usually winds up being lukewarm at best, and pretty cold at worst.

The stromboli is not bad, though the last time I ordered it (coincidentally) it was garnished with hair.

This is a franchise I pathetically keep hoping will turn around. With all we have available to us today in this city, why should it be so hard to get a slice of pizza?

Maybe next month.

Culver's (Sawmill Parkway and Powell Rd)

4137 Powell Rd, Powell, OH

If you've ever eaten at Champps, or Max & Erma's, or TGI Friday's with the office lunch crew and walked out wondering why you're $13 light for the privilege of eating at a socially-acceptable burger joint, there is an alternative.

I heard about Culver's because of their frozen custard. However, I've never actually sampled their custard, because there's never room after the Butterburger Experience. They have a full menu of items, but truth be told, the only variation to my order has been whether to get the single or double.

This is a real burger. I do enjoy a good Big Mac now and again, but we're talking about completely different leagues here, and should be rated accordingly. The Butterburger stacks up against just about anything, in my opinion, and the Culver's service is always top-notch. It's really a hybrid restaurant, mostly fast-food, with a touch of sit-down. You order your food, then take a number and sit down. Instead of standing at the register like cattle, you enjoy your company at your table, and before you know it, the feast is brought to you.

Butterburgers are served with a thick slice of pickle on top of the bun. I'm fairly particular about pickles. In general I detest having a limp spear slapped on my plate, dripping juice to make my fries pickly or bun soggy. But the Culver's crisp pickle garnishment is a nice touch, and is usually consumed as an appetizer.

The bun is a bulky roll, always fresh. As to the burger, Culver's says its meat is never frozen, ensuring freshness. Whatever the secret, it's very good, and in generous portions. Fries are crinkle-cut, crisp, fresh, and plentiful.

Now, I have seen orders messed up. Last summer three of us ordered the single and all got the double. But that's a mistake I'm willing to forgive anytime.

They have a pretty family-friendly atmosphere being a frozen custard purveyor, so there's always a good mix of working stiffs like us and stay-at-home moms with their kids. If you like to curse up a storm at lunch, go elsewhere.

Pretty easy to get in and out of there, though it's a bit out of the way up in Powell. I'm not sure how long the zoo construction is to continue, but last time we went we were unable to cut across 750 from Riverside and had to take a very long detour around a very big block. Best to come up Sawmill if you're unsure.

This is five-star fast-food that knocks the cheese off Crapplebees and their ilk, all for less than eight bucks.

McDonald's (161 and Frantz)

337 W Bridge St, Dublin, OH

Several years ago, I was involved in an investment club. I researched a stock that I thought was ready to take off: McDonald's. It was down to about $14 a share, held down due to uncertainty over the looming war, the looming fat-food lawsuits, and a growing awareness of healthy eating. We didn't buy, but we should have, as it now trades for close to $60. Whatever else McDonald's is, it is quintessentially American, and will adapt. It is also a hated franchise among the latte-quaffers in every office in America, which perhaps endears it to me even more.

The go-to McDonald's for us lately has been at Rt. 161 and Frantz Rd. This is an older franchise, and a place that gives us results. I will vary my order at the Arches in direct proportion to how long it's been since I've eaten there. If it's been a while, it has to be the Big Mac. Wednesday's Mac did not disappoint, and was probably the freshest, most delicious specimen of that species that I have tasted. The mitigating factor for that visit was the fries, which were uncharacteristically overfried. I'm willing to overlook it as a fluke, but will have to keep my eyes out for a trend.

You'll do well to arrive before 11:45 or after 12:30, but even at peak times, lines are reasonable. It's always a clean restaurant, and the counter service is top-notch, for fast food or anywhere else for that matter. Considering that the restaurant industry averages over 100% annual turnover, it's hard to be consistent, but these folks have done it well for years.

There's no real issue getting in or out, or with parking as it's located in the Kroger plaza, and pull-thru spots are usually available close-by. The only strange thing about the place is the vestibule, which is so narrow that patrons often get stuck behind the door they just opened if they chose the wrong interior door. There's no Playplace in the modern sense, but it does have a children's area with a few activities in the back.

All-in-all, a good example of a proud American franchise.

Why we're here

Not all fast food is created equal. A stale bun, limp fries, inept service, or a host of other problems can sour a quick lunch experience. Hence, the Dublin Grease Guide. We are self-proclaimed fast-food connoisseurs, guys who will drive an extra ten minutes to get to a franchise better than the one next door. We are also loathe to spend more than ten bucks on lunch, and ideally like to get change back from a five. Don't get us wrong; we appreciate fine food. But for practical reasons, we eat where it's cheap. This guide will hopefully help you find your way around the better and worse fast food establishments in the Dublin, Ohio area.

Thanks,

The Management