By Amy McCarthy
By Scott Reitz
By Scott Reitz
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Alice Laussade
By City of Ate
Chicken-fried steak also fits this décor, although here they refer to the state's peculiar fetish as Texas-fried steak. So tender you can cut it with a fork and encased in a nice, crispy batter, the pounded beef should stand out. A theme occurred to us by our third visit, however: bland, approachable barbecue, commonplace sausage and finally a CFS more pedestrian than normal--the place just can't prepare flavorful meats. Even the glutinous white gravy lacks anything more than a pasty flour essence.
At least it's not greasy.
The only side cooked to order is fried okra. Dunked in a forgettable batter, it at least retains some of the tacky mouth feel responsible for okra's lowly rep.
Randy White's Hall of Fame Barbeque is, at best, approachable. There's nothing to challenge or excite the palate, nothing memorable apart from the rather exceptional commitment to mundane flavors. Aside from the catfish, cheap drinks and friendly staff, we can't find much to recommend. Which brings us back to our guest's original point: Fame fades with time. Superstars of former days place their names on marquees in order to cash in on that recognition before it disappears completely and to resist, for a little bit longer, the inevitable turn of ages.
But endorsements in mediocrity can only hasten the fall. 14905 Midway Road, Addison, 972-934-1455. Open daily 11 a.m.-10 p.m.