Thursday, August 27, 2009

Buffalo My Grill

oH mY gOODNESS. I love me some Buffalo Grill.

If you've never had the opportunity to eat there, please allow me to paint the picture for you. Everything from the new parking experience to the smiley person on the microphone screaming your name... this place has it all.

First. Thanks to large corporations taking over local grass-roots (*sense sarcasm here), Buffalo Grill now has a decent parking lot. It started as a cluster of 3-point-turns and can-I-fit-in-between-this-dumpster-and-this-wall kind of parking experience, but now there are some 300 spaces, because the restaurant sits in the parking lot of the BRAND NEW BUFFALO SPEEDWAY HEB. I'm so sick of hearing their commercials, but I do have a nerdy friend that attended the VIP Grand Opening. He said it was "awesome" because they were giving away free samples on every aisle (we don't hang out much).

Once you park and make your initial descent on the front door, you're greeted by the unpretentious vibe of home. It really is something like waking up and walking down the hall to your childhood kitchen. And don't even get me started on the FUN of the new windows they installed on the West side of the restaurant. LET THERE BE LIGHT!

Now walk up to the counter, my friend. If God is on your side, there won't be a line, but don't think you're going to hell because this place is so popular, there usually is. I never look at the menu. I've ordered the same thing for 8 years. I do, however, stare at the million or so articles of restaurant awards dating back 20 years, but I don't really read them. They just remind me that I made a brilliant meal choice again. Sometimes I even say a prayer thanking Jesus for making the Buffalo Grill owners.

I'll have 2 pieces of french toast with strawberries and a side of hashbrowns, or if I'm feeling especially spontaneous, I'll get a #2 with fried eggs, over medium, grits and whole wheat toast and coffee. The cinnamon roast kind. That's what I had this morning.

Now get your drink and silverwear and find your table beneath the buffalo head or the western blanket. And just wait. Wait for your name. Be sure to listen for the vowels, because you usually can't understand the sweet lady that screams it through the microphone - "azjslee!! your order weady!!!" Like music to my ears.

I get more worked up from eating Buffalo Grill at 7am on a work day than I do most things in life... now that's good stuff.

2 comments:

cclem said...

I hate you.

Me Too said...

Mmmmm. used to love me some buffalo grill.