Hello blog! I was thinking I needed an outlet and remembered our happy little blog. Tracie has posted so many pleasant little things that I now feel odd posting about any random thing, so I decided we could keep a food focus for today. The following is a lightning review (well, ok, it's more like a novella) of where I ate lunch.
Buffalo Wild Wings Grill & Bar
5000 Jimmy Lee Smith Parkway
Hiram, GA 30141-2769
(770) 439-3744
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I had every intention of eating somewhere healthy today. In fact, that's how I justified not going home to reheat some pizza while I watched something mind numbing on Netflix. We discovered the new Blimpie that opened inside the ColdStone Creamery last night, so I headed there, with happy thoughts of $1.00 off a tasty sandwich (or so i had been told by the lady there last night). So, I turn into the parking lot (correctly, this time, not repeating my mistake of pulling through the Starbucks drivethrough lane and having to squeeze past some caffeine fiend jonesing for a fix) and there it was: Buffalo Wild Wings. Had I been there before? I can't remember. Seems like I tried to sell them some advertising once. Or was that the Buffalo's? Buffalo's has good corn. Does Buffalo Wild Wings have good corn? As these thoughts dance through my head my highly efficient auto pilot kicks in (NASA should study this mechanism and program it into their Mars rovers so they will go places and do things with almost no processing power required) and I find myself parked. And if I'm parked, then the car is off, the keys are out and I'm heading in (all autopilot, NASA. Can you see the potential?).
Here are my impressions:
A short cattle chute finds me in a large dark room with TVs everywhere and at least two projectors. I am instantly greeted by two young ladies. The staff are all wearing the typical black pants/black logo t-shirt uniforms that allow them to completely disappear in the darkness if they want to. It's a sort of culinary camo. I'm taken to a table. I do a quick turn, deciding which chair to sit in. There are a few people at the bar across the room. To my slight annoyance, every TV is tuned to an esoteric sports network (The Ocho?) and not a single one has closed captioning turned on. Am I doomed to silent sports? Which is worse? Silent sports tv or sports broadcasting on talk radio? I pick the tv closest and arrange myself accordingly. Country music plays unobtrusively. They have a lunch menu, so I order a Coke (let's make the best of this whole 'sports bar' thing, right?) and give it a look over. Tiny burgers or wings. Wings it is! Can I replace the celery? Nope. What sauce? Ummmm, medium? The Coke arrives, and it is good and strong. Now, I wait.
Fiddling with my phone, I am suddenly startled by blaring commentary from one of the TVs. Where is it coming from? Why doesn't it make sense? It must be coming from that one with the icy dart board on the screen. What is that? Curling? Hmmm, I'm down for curling. My mind shifts into overdrive, trying to make sense of the really loud gibberish. I soon decide there are two commentators speaking English and a gaggle of lady curlers speaking French/German/Curlish. It turns out curling is pretty cool. I watch the ladies do these crazy graceful Superman-esque gliding lunges, sending their "stone" down what should be called a curling lane (which would be located in a curling alley) while their lackeys try to make them look good by vigorously manipulating time and space with tiny brooms to 'curl' the stone into their opponent's stone. It's slow. There is no violence. But it's cool. I'm not sure it's a sport, but the Olympic Games are really just a series of TV shows, so if I'm entertained, then more power to the curlers. I change seats to face the appropriate curling screen, wishing someone would turn it down.
After what seemed like a pretty long wait (how long does it take to deep fry some wings and french fries?) my food arrived. Holy cow, that's a ton of wings! The fries are thin cut and seem to be cut fresh in the kitchen, giving them a happy home made texture/taste. The wings were good. It seems like wings are wings, but I did appreciate that the sauce didn't melt my face or stain my fingers permanently. They came with two ramekins of ranch (or bleu cheese) dressing which was very good. Over the course of my stay at Buffalo Wild Wings my eating experience has gradually gotten better. The food is good and hot. My drink is refilled THREE times (in my opinion, this is what I tip for). Someone finds the remote and turns down the curling to something softer than deafening and I get to eat in peace, enjoying my fried food tour de force. Heck, I even tried the celery. To my shock and dismay, it tasted fine, proving that my taste buds have been dying off since my childhood when sharp cheddar made my eyes water and anything green tasted like grass (celery) or horse poop (green beans). In the end, my food costs $10.37 and I tip $2.00 plus the change, so $13.00 out the door. Not a cheap lunch, but hey, I have five wings left over in the fridge at work, I drank some darn good Coke, and there was curling. I give the place 2 out of 5 Cupcakes and 3 out of 5 Hand Grenades.
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