How Do Some Restaurants Survive?

Well, the economy is officially in the toilet. How do I know this? Because six of my favorite restaurants have tanked in the last couple years. Restaurants that should have survived and even succeeded during hard times because they knew how to do it right. And by right, I mean focused on the basics: good food, good service. I'm willing to sacrifice a bit here and there for really good food and service. The price doesn't have to be right (okay, I admit I don't typically buy my own dinners), the place doesn't have to be spotless (just make sure my elbows don't stick to the table and my dishes are clean), and the ambience doesn't need to charm me (I'm here to eat). I'll even drive a bit if the food is worth it.

Time after time, I visit restaurants that serve lousy food - and I mean barely edible lousy - yet they seem to do a brisk business and have great longevity. Take for instance the bbq joint that opened up recently in my home town. When I first moved to the area more than a decade ago, this restaurant was in the next town over. I tried it once, and while I can't recall much about it, apparently I wasn't impressed enough to return. A few years later they opened another in my town, but then I moved away to the next town up the road. Now they've opened another restaurant here. Keep in mind, this is an area with a lot of growth, but pretty remote. Several large subdivisions have developed and filled in the last 5 or 6 years and yet this town still only has one gas station and two stoplights. Needless to say, it's potentially a great place for a restaurant. But the few decent local eateries we've had can't seem to stay in business.

Anyhow, since yet another local eatery closed last week, we thought we'd give this new bbq place a try.

It's less than two miles away. Convenient, but hard to find because there's no signage up yet. We notice a crowded parking lot. That's a good sign. Better than an actual sign, even. When we get inside, we finally know the name: Kaddy Shack Roadhouse. The place is noisy, with lots of staff rushing around with mounded plates of barbeque (I assumed they were bringing it to the tables and not back to the kitchen). We're seated fairly quickly by friendly staff, and despite the crowd our order is promptly taken. We chat with another waitress who we recognize from the recently closed eatery down the road. She tells us that place stiffed her out of more than a month of pay - another topic for another day.

After a very long wait, which seemed longer because we were tortured by Country & Western music at full volume, our food arrives. I ordered the pork and beef plate, which was brisket and pulled pork. I ordered a side salad and a potato salad. Here's what I don't get: why does food that is already cooked take over a half hour to get to the table? It's not like the kitchen had to prepare our meals. All they had to do was slap this shit on a plate and walk it 15 steps to the table for crisakes. Mike ordered the pulled pork. Now on the menu, this place brags that their meats are slow roasted for 6 hours and smoked. I don't know how they manage to remove the smoke flavor from the meat before it's served, but it must be the same device they use to remove any trace of smoke aroma from the air, as well. Maybe the smoker was down that day. I don't know. 

The pulled pork was pretty good, but it was served piled on a grease-soaked piece of toast. The brisket, also served on a grease-soaked piece of toast, was inedible. It was sliced very thick with a 3/4 inch ribbon of uncooked fat on the edge. It was extremely tough as well as dried out. Here's a tip: if you don't know how to cook brisket, don't put it on your damn menu. Brisket should be so tender it nearly melts in your mouth. This is not a regional preference. It is barbeque gospel. The selection of sauces, "sweet" and "house" were uninteresting and one-dimensional and didn't help the brisket go down. I left nearly a half pound of brisket uneaten on my plate. If you know me, you know how astonishing that is. The side salad was limp. The potato salad was also tough and inedible (call me crazy but the rubbery crunch of undercooked potatoes always turns my stomach). 

Finally, you'd always like the waitress or hostess to ask you how you enjoyed your meal as you take care of the check. It's an opportunity to let them know how they're doing. No one asked. While I wasn't surprised, I left wondering why. And I also wondered why the parking lot was full. By the time we got home, I knew this would be my first blog bitch.

Unbelievably, the Kaddy Shack Roadhouse will probably survive this economy. For some reason, the mediocre places always do. But we can scratch yet another restaurant off our list because unless we are feeling generous enough to give them another chance, we won't be returning until the memory of this meal fades.