by Greg Beets
Golden Corral
9710 N. Lamar, 834-9911;
3607 S. Lamar, 442-3472
Ryan’s Family Steakhouse
1813 W. Parmer, 835-9663
Sirloin Stockade
5607 N. Lamar, 451-5357; 8828 Research, 453-1075; 1723 N. I-35,
218-8600
HomeTown Buffet
2500 W. Parmer, 388-0004 It all goes back to that first Thanksgiving dinner, the one the Pilgrims
invited the Indians to before killing them: the United States was founded on
big, ugly appetites. These Puritans of Fortune saw an opportunity to regentrify the so-called New
World in their own chosen image. And while their dogma was one of
do-unto-others, their M.O. was to take everything they could and feel guilty
later, when guilt no longer mattered.
Sadly, you can’t just go out and bum-rush a piece of land these days. However,
you can recapture some of the imperialist glory of our past simply by going to
your nearest American food buffet. What is American food? It’s whatever
Americans say it is! An American Buffet spread could feature anything from
tacos to egg rolls to salisbury steak. You could call it a giant melting pot,
so I will.
The food at American Buffets is never great, nor is it pretty, but there
is a lot of it. The fact that we have 96 food choices spread before us
is way more important than the fact that 81 go untouched. We certainly don’t
need to have 96 choices of anything, but if we can get it all for $4.79
(gratuity not included), why the hell not?
While the inherent wastefulness of such a system may seem obscene to
outsiders, the pursuit of value is the glue that holds us in bondage together
as a society. Value makes us feel productive without actually working and it
offers immediate gratification in the form of pennies saved and pennies earned.
Sure, it’s a pathetic grasp of a reward, but value is as close to the American
Dream as most of us are likely to get, so if you don’t eat more than your
money’s worth, you should be ashamed of yourself.
In Austin, four establishments dominate the American Buffet playing field.
Golden Corral, Sirloin Stockade, Ryan’s Family Steak House, and HomeTown Buffet
are almost interchangable in their food service vision. All four restaurants
dish out a big slice of American Buffet earmarks, including:
*A rotating menu consisting of 3-6 meats such as fried chicken, meatballs,
ham, and the generic “fried fish.”
*A cornucopia of vegetables that taste just like canned.
*Salad bars where iceburg lettuce and ranch dressing are king and queen.
*A choice of 2-4 soups devoid of flavor except for salt.
*Endless refills on soft drinks
*An in-house bakery that pumps out big, fresh dinner rolls and soft, warm
cookies, just like the ones your mother was supposed to make.
*A soft-serve ice cream machine and toppings bar pawed incessantly by loose
children.
Much like the Christian Coalition, many of these restaurants revel in
exploiting a nostalgic image of The American Way to satisfy their own economic
ends. Not surprisingly, the word “family” is bandied about like an overcooked,
butter-drenched carrot on a stick, but some marketing ploys go much deeper.
According to a table tent from HomeTown Buffet, owner C. Dennis Scott wants his
restaurant to embody “the value of hard work, the spirit and love of the
family… and the quiet, gentle strength of hometown pride.” Similarly, Golden
Corral’s company beliefs (spelled out in a management recruitment brochure)
include the promotion of “strong work ethics,” “the free enterprise system and
private ownership,” and, of course, remembering “to give thanks to God for the
opportunities given to us.” While such values may be hard to swallow for some,
the food values offered by American Buffets make it all go down easy.
After all, who needs freedom of speech when your mouth is full?
In terms of both quality and choice, Golden Corral’s “Golden Choice Buffet” is
the hands-down victor among American Buffets in Austin. They were the first of
the so-called “family steak houses” in town to expand a glorified salad bar
into a bona fide buffet with the potential to be a meal unto itself.
They were also the first to have a carving station on evenings and Sundays with
plenty of roast beef, turkey, and ham for the minions. In addition to the daily
meat choices, Golden Corral always has spaghetti, pizza, and cocktail tacos. I
also like Golden Corral because a lot of the servers there can tell whether
you’re drinking Coke or Dr. Pepper on sight.
Ryan’s Family Steak House comes close to the Corral in terms of choice, but
suffers a bit quality-wise. To be fair, it was seafood day, which is not the
easiest thing to pull off on a buffet. Surprisingly, the seafood creole was
only five or six shots of Tabasco short of respectable, but there was no excuse
for the cold peel-and-eat shrimp to be right next to fish illuminated by heat
lamps. In addition, the iceburg lettuce in the salad bar was wilting from
neglect. I’ll go back, but only if I’m in the neighborhood.
Sirloin Stockade is the stalwart veteran of Austin family steak houses.
Unfortunately, their role has been one of catch-up ever since Golden Corral
opened. While they have added an in-house bakery and carving station in the
past few years, Sirloin Stockade’s facilities aren’t built to handle the
full-court press of a true American Buffet. As a result, food choices are
limited. However, Sirloin Stockade does offer the best deal in town on
steak ‘n’ buffet combinations. You can often get a five-ounce cut with the
buffet for just a dollar or so more added to the price.
HomeTown Buffet is the only American Buffet in town not birthed by a steak
house. Therefore, the buffet has the full and undivided attention of the entire
staff, resulting in fresher food and better presentation. The selection is
similar to that of Golden Corral’s, with the exception of curve balls like
cheese toast and sausage patties with sweet and sour sauce. HomeTown Buffet
also has a mascot named H.T. Bee who waddles about the restaurant, wooing
children and adults alike with stinging charm. It’s almost enough to get your
mind off the Norman Rockwell paintings staring at you from every angle like a
suburban chamber of horrors.
Let’s face it. As our society of consensus falls prey to greed and fanaticism,
for better or worse, the American Dream bleeds. The American Buffet may well be
the last thing we can all agree on. It is a culinary version of Jesse Jackson’s
Common Ground: food that no one loves, but no one really hates, either. Maybe
we can all get along! n
This article appears in September 22 • 1995 and September 22 • 1995 (Cover).