We arrived just before dinner rush, right around 5pm - and out of all of the booths and tables with ample space, we were seated at the world's smallest booth. I know they were prepping for dinner rush and expected bigger parties to take up those spots, plus I knew it would mean we wouldn't be seated too close to screaming kids, so I didn't complain. It took so long for our server to come over and greet us and take our drink order, we'd already had plenty of time to peruse the menu and load up on the free peanuts when she got there. I ordered the Onion Brewski sirloin with a house salad and broccoli, and the mister opted for the 10 oz sirloin and carbalicious sides of mac & cheese and french fries (shit he doesn't get at home).
Our food came out pretty quickly, since we both ordered our cuts mid-rare. When I cut into the corner, I was pleased to see that it was squishy and oozing, not overcooked. Mine came out on a fajita plate - onions-a-sizzlin' - which I was excited about until I remembered how science works. We'll get to that later, but the whole plating issue was kind of a nightmare.
The plate was pretty small, and as-is, really left me no place to cut my steak. I moved my broccoli dish to give me some wiggle room and move the onion straws so I could get down to business. I'm a pretty slow eater, and I like to enjoy a good steak at a reasonable pace. At home or anywhere else, this wouldn't present a problem. At Logan's, however, that sizzling plate continued to cook the meat, and by the last four bites, I was gnawing on well-done steak like a cow chewing cud. Mr. FvF's sirloin came out on a regular ol' plate, so of course, he had no issues with his and it was perfectly cooked and well-seasoned. He only gave the side dishes a 3 out of 5, though. My sides were good, not exceptional. The house salad actually came with more than just iceberg - carrots, tomatoes, bacon crumbles and cheese. The broccoli was steamed and soft, but not mushy. Our server was okay, but didn't knock my socks off. I got busted taking photos of the food, and three managers came out to ask us how everything was before you could say "plating fail." Mr. FvF thought maybe there were rules against photographing the food and we'd end up in Logan's Roadhouse jail.
They earned a few bonus points for the following things:
- Letting me throw shit on their floor
- Potato rolls
- A very strange mural that depicts a Patrick Swayze-esque character seemingly busting a load on the farmer's daughter.
2.5 out of 5 sporks