Frida's? Oh, I see.
So, I had vowed to never set foot into a Chili's, Friday's, Red Lobster, Olive
Garden or anything similar, ever again. I knew that this was an unrealistic vow, since in some areas, it's the only place to find "professionally" made food.
So, with this vow in my head, I really tried (really!) to steer the group in another direction when I found myself in SoCal, at an amusement park (Knott's) with my 2 god-sons in tow. But, being the good non-parent, I realized that whatever was convenient for the kids would be best. So, when dad said, "What's this Frida's over there?" I almost got excited, until I turned around and saw it. The "Y" was missing, but I could smell the faux-happiness from where I was standing.
It was Friday's and there was no line to get in.
My bigger problem...I wasn't hungry...at all. It's a long story and I'm not getting into it here.
This was a newer Friday's, not as "striped" (red and white) as other versions I've seen.
It looked modern, not stuck in some 1987 daquiri-potato skin smelling, fern decor that these places usually feature.
The server was the typical bubbly, over-coached, young go-getter. Nice personality, and did a nice job taking care of us and the kids.
Now for the food. I had a bowl of French-onion soup. It tasted fine.
I would get it again and not complain. The rest of my dining partners had some sort of sizzling pasta dish, or some sizzling fajita dish, or some large (non-sizzling) salad. None of the other dishes looked very appetizing. But that's not really the issue.
I went to Friday's, didn't complain to anyone, ordered and ate food in peace, and actually had a decent time. That was a big step. Now don't tell anyone about this.
This'll be our little secret.
Now for a real review.
The wife and I met for lunch near her office and we chose a new place, called...oops.
I've lost the menu and I can't remember the name. It's French. La Coulte or something like that. It's from the folks who brought us Chez Papa and Chez Maman and as soon as I track down that menu, I'll post the review.
Let me just say that it was very good. Very French.
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TGI Fridays was the place to go my jr. year of high school in the late 80's. We'd eat potato skins and order smoothies and pretend they were alcoholic tropical drinks. We'd then get in a car and try to decipher the lyrics to Depeche Mode songs and blast Information Society and talk about how carrying backpacks seemed so collegiate.
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