Last night before I went bowling, I decided to get something to eat. I wracked my brain to come up with some place that I haven’t eaten at 900 times recently, and finally settled on Applebee’s on Hwy. 124. I was seated and after what seemed like about 5 minutes, the waitress finally came over. I ordered a Coke and the Crispy Orange Chicken Bowl, without the mushrooms. She responded, “I’ll see if they can pick them out for you. It’s a mix.” I responded that I have gotten the dish there before without mushrooms, so it shouldn’t be a problem. For the record, a better response would have been, “OK” rather than, “I’ll see if they can pick them out.” After placing my order I commenced to reading my book while waiting for my food to arrive.
After 10 minutes or so, the food arrived, but the chicken and broccoli pieces were too large to manage in the bowl, so I asked for a small plate to cut them up. As I started cutting the chicken, I noticed something: it was completely raw on the inside. Not just one piece, but all of it. I called the waitress over and showed it to her. She took it, but didn’t seem overly concerned. I asked for a manager. The manager came over and after I explained what happened, she expressed a modicum of concern, though not as much as she should have. She said, “I’ll have to check the grease temperature. Everything is on a timer.” Well, yeah. If your grease is not hot enough (or is laden with gunk) then your cook times will need to be longer. But since the kitchen staff at places like this doesn’t actually cook, they only warm things up and mix things, I guess expecting them to know that is asking a bit much.
Anyway, I told her that I didn’t have time for a reorder and I was just going to leave. She didn’t make me pay for my Coke, but didn’t offer anything else as a concession. Good management, there.
As I was leaving, I heard my name called. I turned and saw six of the people from my bowling league. I went over to talk and right as I walked up, one of them was calling for their waitress. Guess why. Her chicken was also raw! When I saw this, I said (rather loudly), “Hey! They gave you raw chicken, too!” I found out later that the manager didn’t even bother to come out to talk to them, nor did she take the raw chicken off the bill.
As it turns out, they got a 79 on their most-recent health inspection. I won’t be going back any time soon.