With Valentine’s Day rapidly approaching I thought it appropos to dedicate the column to those men who, for one reason or another, are simply too unattractive to find true love by tomorrow. What becomes of the broken-hearted, you ask? They meet at Hooters, of course, 2171 E. Dublin-Granville Rd., where feminine attention – which can normally cost anywhere between $50 and $150 – is merely a trifling 15 percent of your bill. Talk about value!
As our charming waitress walked away from our table, Co-masticator Brian looked at the rest of us excitedly and said, “She touched my wrist!”
“On purpose,” he added emphatically.
Indeed, you can expect more non-accidental “petting” during your visit than most altar boys see in an entire day.
The layout is utilitarian and comfortable with ample seating and importantly, high bar stools. Perched high atop one of these stools, one is tacitly encouraged to gaze down (somewhat discretely) upon Hooters’ undulating sea of cleavage. Readers should take heart in knowing that Hooters is a diverse employer of large-breasted women. No matter what ethnicity you prefer to objectify – Hooters has got’em.
I tried a half-dozen raw oysters and rate them as excellent. They didn’t taste fishy, were adequately chilled and served with zesty cocktail sauce. For less than four bucks, they made a fine sequay into the plate of buffalo wings to follow.
While the medium sauce had an excellent flavor, it wasn’t nearly as spicy as its counterpart at BW3s. Even after adding the hot sauce on the table, it’s apparent that Hooters is sagging behind its competition.
Co-masticator Gavin agreed and writes, “My wings were heavily, almost oppressively breaded. While good overall, the mild sauce was entirely too limp, even for me.”
Breaded and greasy, I can’t make the claim that Hooters wings are good for you. However, I think that these wings are so greasy, so breaded that they actually taste good. Keep to the medium sauce or hotter, dear readers; even bland, pasty-skinned Midwestern Republicans like yourselves should have the capacity to bypass the mild sauce altogether.
Co-masticator Frank sampled both the grilled chicken Caesar salad and gourmet hotdog and left unimpressed. He writes, “The chicken itself was cold, hard and dry. The salad was otherwise good and wasn’t drowning in dressing. The gourmet hotdog had plenty of girth, but the bun was sub par.”
Co-masticator Nishanta took on the Strip Cheese Sandwich. He comments, “It was very tasty, but messy thanks to the cheddar and provolone. The chicken was a bit dry, however.”
It might be worth noting that out of our entire group, Frank and Nishanta received the least number of physical advances from the waitress. Thus, I propose that the quality of one’s stay at a Hooters establishment can be measured the same way as one rates a lap dance; the enjoyment of the experience is directly related to the intensity and duration of the physical contact.
In conclusion, for those among you who are feeling hungry and perverted (and you know who you are), Hooters makes a fine destination. At least you can still reasonably tell one another that you’re not as pathetic at the boys at the strip club.
For those interested in fantastic French cuisine, La Chatelaine, 1550 West Lane Avenue, will be having its annual Mardi Gras dinner on Tuesday, February 19th. I’ve reviewed their lineup in this column last year and it can be found in my online dining guide at www.thelantern.com. Contact La Chatelaine at 488-1911 for more details.
Hank Mylander is a senior from Westerville majoring in Information Systems. Your Masticator marked a seminal moment in his life on this review, as for the first time ever the Hooters waitress was younger than he was. Reach him for comment at [email protected].
