Kid Unit 2 had her best friend over to play and, as kids inevitably do, they became hungry. We ventured out in search of family-friendly fare. How about the golden arches? Yes, that’s close…but then flashes of dirty floors, terrible service and a lethargic and overweight Morgan Spurlock flashed in our heads and we pressed on.
After thirty minutes of driving around, unable to achieve consensus on a suitable establishment, with the kids growing increasingly whiney and kidlike and the adults nearing the point of self-immolation, the faux-nostalgia of a familiar neon sign caught our eye–”Don’t they have a large playground with beach sand?” I asked Robert. Our eyes met and it was clear that we were thinking the same thing. Without saying a word (and without a blinker), Robert pulled a hard right, across two lanes of traffic, and roared into the parking lot like Clark Griswold into a Christmas tree lot. We were there. Joe’s Crab Shack. Robert and I exchanged another glance and let out the self-satisfied sigh that only a parent who feels like they have narrowly avoided a kid-tastrophe can produce. Mission accomplished. Right?….Right?
Not so fast, Skippy. Apparently, in our panic to quiet the restless natives in the back seat, we had lost contact with our senses because, you see, this wasn’t our first trip to Joe’s. How quickly, in the name of a playground, had we forgotten that, just as Taco Cabana is just a prettier version of Taco Bell but with the same food, Joe’s is not much more than a gussied-up Long John Silver’s. Curse you playground!
First, the positives: our server, Justin, was about as full of enthusiasm as you could be. He was on top of things, very attentive, VERY friendly (think generic youth minister) and an all-around nice guy. We tipped him generously and joked around with him amply. Also, the playground, which, after all, got us into this mess, was great for the wee ones–they loved Joe’s! They played and played, got covered in sand, built sand castles and made new friends. And…well, that’s about it.
The list of negatives is long. At our request, we were seated outside so as to be able to keep an eye on the kiddos as they played. This would have been fine but for the horde of biting flies attacking us. These little bloodsuckers were persistent and aggressive. The kids may have had a playground but mommy and Robert were busy contracting Dengue Fever. Before the flies set in, we ordered an appetizer: mozzerella sticks (owing to Robert’s Iodine allergy, the assortment of various crab- and shrimp-based appetizers were a no-go). Nothing special–think about the frozen ones that you get at the market and cook at home. The marinara was nondescript and chunky. In a word, the appetizer was “Meh.” In fact, “meh” was the theme for the evening as all of the dishes were just average–”meh.”
Then time for the entrees. I had the crawfish half-and-half, served with white rice. Robert had a chipotle bacon cheeseburger. The kids both ordered pizza.
My dish was half etouffee, half fried crawfish and 100% stale. The crawfish was really, really subpar and tasted not so fresh. The presentation was pleasing but the good times stopped there. At least the rice was rice-like, if not remarkable. Meh.
The kids’ pizzas were…hmmm…ever seen those $1 store-brand frozen pizzas? You know, the kind you would nuke in college because you were down to your last $1.87 and Wal-Mart was the only thing open at 1am when you finally got around to eating? The Joe’s Crab Shack kids pizza aspires to taste so good. Honestly, they were not much more than a few slivers of cheese covering ketchup covering cardboard. The good news? They’re kids–they didn’t care.
Robert described his cheeseburger as below average. The chipotle sauce wasn’t good–too much vinegar and too little kick. Apparently, “seafood” places aren’t that great when it comes to special bbq sauces–go figure. The bacon was okay–crisply done–and the cheese bountiful but the meat wasn’t especially flavorful or juicy. All-in-all, “meh.”
So what lesson have we learned, kids? If the primary draw for a restaurant is the jungle gym outside, you’re going to get mediocrity on your plate. Our main purpose in heading out last night was to take sassy pants and her friend somewhere that would be different and fun for them. On that count, the evening was a success–they got dirty, made friends, had a good time (see picture) and saw the macarena performed horribly, which prompted lots of squeals and little girl giggles (as did the fact that our waiter shares the same first name as a certain adolescent male pop singer). I suppose that is what one goes to places like Joe’s for–mindless fun. If you’re going for the food, save your money for a great, locally-owned seafood place that serves fresh seafood and does not have a tree house full of crawling kids out front.