We've been to some of the fanciest restaurants in the Valley this year along with many bare-bones establishments. But nowhere have we encountered the sort of gold-star service we received at our final destination as the authors of "Eating Out": Hooters of Springfield.
This was not Nick or Sarah's first visit to a member of the "Delightfully tacky yet unrefined" restaurant chain, though neither of us had been to the local outpost. We were delighted to find all of the touches we hold dear in our local Hooters present, from the blonde wood paneling to the paper towels on the tables instead of napkins.
Also present were standard Hooters uniforms, adorning just three waitresses and a bartender on a Monday evening. But if our eyes longed for more orange shorts and tight, low-cut white tank tops, we could be comforted by the many photos on the wall of waitresses in a variety of poses.
And then there was the food, and more specifically, Hooters "nearly world famous" chicken wings. 50 wings ($26.99), to be exact. No, Nick and Sarah were not gorging in honor of their final column; Alicia, Margaret and Dan were all in attendance, and everyone wanted wings. Kali was kind enough to allow us to order up to five differently-flavored sauces, and we obliged, ordering 10 "samurai" (better known as teriyaki), 10 cajun and 30 medium buffalo wings (a bad experience with Wings last weekend scared us off the hot and "three-mile island" varieties).
With their pleasingly glossy and brown coating, everyone swarmed to the samurai plate first, but we were all disappointed by the overdose of soy sauce in the marinade, which made the wings way too salty. The cajun version fared better, with a tangy dry rub and a peppery aftertaste. When the medium wings first arrived at the table, we all bemoaned their lack of kick. The accompanying blue cheese dressing was totally unnecessary, and we resigned ourselves to adding large amounts of the Hooters-brand hot sauce on our table. And then, with both of your columnists mid-bite, Kali arrived with an offer: She would bring the medium wings back to the kitchen, where the chef would toss them with hot sauce, and she would add a side of three-mile island.
Our meal was suddenly transformed. Margaret, Alicia and Nick proclaimed the hot sauce "just right," while Sarah and Dan added small amounts of three-mile to obtain the right balance. Dipped in blue cheese, we all agreed that these put Wings' version (albeit these were boned) to shame.
We felt obliged to try more than just the wings (almost famous though they may be). Alicia, Sarah and Dan ordered a pitcher of Widmer Hefeweizen ($14), which was excellent. Margaret's standard-issue side salad ($2.79) reminded us that we weren't at Del Raye, however; Hooters is low-rent all the way. And since curly fries ($2.49) are as low-rent as it gets, Hooters won points for the well-salted, crispy but not over-cooked fries; they were especially good dipped in Dan's tasty chili topped with cheese and onions ($4.38).
Your columnists' picks were, alas, uneven, and Nick was the winner this time around. His "Hooters (more than a mouthful) burger" ($6.99) was "fucking amazing and actually medium rare"; Nick was also happy to report that it was indeed hefty enough to earn its appellation. Unfortunately, Sarah's half order of a Carolina-style oyster roast ($10.99) lacked such plaudits; why were so many unopened?
Kali was kind enough to split our bill among three credit cards, write a personalized message on our check ("xoxo, heart, thanks"), and to pack up our few leftover wings in Styrofoam containers.
And so, dear readers, we are packing up our column and leaving you with our own thanks. Leave your restaurant tips to Leigh Rivlin '07, who will take over this space next year; we'll keep leaving ours to Kali at Hooters.