By Amy McCarthy
By Scott Reitz
By Scott Reitz
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Alice Laussade
By City of Ate
Salad bar that must get passed up for fried goodies at least 1,000 times a day count: 1
Tie count: 4
Flip-flop count: 12
Seems like every restaurant has a mascot these days.
Applebee's has that ridiculously annoying talking apple (Wanda—please stop being an apple and go back to being a hooker in Pootie Tang. I liked you way better as Biggie Shorty than I will ever like you as a Red Delicious), Bennigan's has a creepy mean leprechaun that force-feeds you Monte Cristos, Babydolls has strippers—all of which make me realize that the thing keeping Trinity Plaza Café off the popularity map isn't their lack of outstanding food or beverages, it's their lack of a mascot. And, lucky for you, Trinity Café, I already figured it out: steak fingers. Steak fingers are your mascot because before I walked into your green awning-ed establishment, I had my mind made up that I was getting a grilled cheese sandwich and tater tots. But, once I walked in, your steak fingers called to me, and there was simply no way I could resist their steaky, yet fingery call. They not only convinced me to order them, but they also upsold me on getting the grilled cheese and tots too. The sommelier behind the counter recommended their finest Dr Pepper, and I have to say that it was a magnificent pairing. The carbonated notes of the Dr Pepper really did an amazing job of bringing out the plasticity of the American cheese as well as the "What's this meat?" qualities of the steak pinkies. My palate found it pleasing.
Once I got my number, I sat down inside (there's patio action to be had, but I wasn't up for windiness or that weird smell), watched some CNN and had just enough time to ask myself, "Why is Robin Williams' divorce making the news on CNN? He looks old. He's only 56? Wow. Drugs are mean. At least the people on CNN are nice enough to cite him as a dude who won an Academy Award for Good Will Hunting instead of mentioning that poop sandwich of sin-ema that he made—what was it called? RV? Happy Feet? August Rush—oh, lookie! Lunch delivery." Yeah. At this place, they call your number, you raise your hand and they bring your food. That, my friend, is called bang for your buck.
I liked Trinity Plaza Café. It's a little trashy but a lotta tasty.