Without a plan, or a yen, PIGMON and I set out last Saturday night in search of a culinary clue. Mile after mile, nothing seemed right, and when we reached the city limits bordering Lincolnwood, it seemed Renga-Tei was the call. But as we turned on to Touhy, a little beady, black eye caught mine. The Lobster’s snappy, red claw seemed to dare us to turn into the packed parking lot. Maybe we’re insecure enough that we couldn’t just keep driving…we would not be taunted by a cartoonish ocean scavenger—a corporate mascot, for fuck’s sake.
instigator
So we turned in, drove around a mall parking lot looking for a non-existent parking space. At the door, the lobster let out a tiny laugh when we forcefully declined the little black beeper that would let us know when our table was ready. Walking back to our car, we tried to justify our defeat with one rationalization after the next.
Said us:
“I won’t wait in line at Spacca Napoli, why would I wait at Red Lobster!?”
“This was supposed to be ironic. A joke. If we wait in line, who's the joke?”
Listening to ourselves, we were disgusted by our own airs. So once again, we walked back to the hostess stand, humbled, happy to accept the little black beeper, if they would accept us.
::
Neither of us had been to a Red Lobster since the early eighties, and since I was about five years old, my recollection is a little hazy. Funny thing is, it didn’t seem like anything had changed since 1982—same bad music, same bad décor. But the place was packed with quite a diverse group of folks. Young, old, families, couples, ladies-night-out, singles-at-the-bar, birthday parties, Asian, Black, Hispanic, White—it was Saturday night, and Red Lobster is apparently a Lincolnwood hotspot.
The coolest and most disturbing thing about Red Lobster is its die hard commitment to consistency. Absolutely every detail of our experience was hit at exactly the same note—middle C. I kind of went in hoping that I could sift through the menu hoping to find little above average treasures, but when the food arrived, everything tasted fine, nothing better or worse than anything else. Lobster, crab legs, stuffed flounder, clam strips, shrimp scampi, fried shrimp, Caesar salads, potatoes-baked and mashed, biscuits, and Martini’s for two with tax and tip was about $50.
When
Devon Seafood opened, and comparisons to Red Lobster were made, I thought it to be mild hyperbole, but it ain’t, its concept is dead ringer right down to the inclusion of patented processes* on the menu.
The two variables that separate the three institutions are execution, service, and price. Though Devon might have started out with a better product, the execution was poor, therefore rendering the high price unjustified, and the service, good or bad, ultimately irrelevant. At Red Lobster the product tasted fresh, and was prepared simply. We felt like Red Lobster was a good value for what it was, and the service was fine, just like dinner, just like everything else at this place. So what am I trying to say…that I would recommend Red Lobster (a faceless, corporate chain) to Devon Seafood Grill (a closeted corporate, urban, high-end concept trying to pull off a high-end Red Lobster)?
That’s right. As I see it, Red Lobster is trying to duplicate the fish house experience for the masses, while Devon Seafood grille is trying to fancy the fish house up into something that it is clearly not.
*
At Devon Seafood, Char Crust® Seals in the Juices. Red Lobster had Ameripure® oysters, $9.95/doz. Ameripure® is a horrible name that invokes all sorts of offensive connotations, plus at that price point, your skepticism can only deepen. If you want to know more about the oyster purification process, you can read about it here.