While I am a frequent reader of Yelp reviews, I never thought I'd ever be writing one myself.
Billy Smoothbrain's...er...Smoothboars was the absolute low light of a group vacation to Bandon, OR. Imagine, if you will: 3 couples meet from places like Nice, France and Denver, CO to enjoy this beautiful little seaside town for 4 days. The scenery is stunning. There's a salmon fishing derby happening. There are dunes to be pounded with dune buggies. It's not a high brow affair, it's just good, clean fun.
The local markets have fresh local seafood and produce. We prepared some of it ourselves on the first night there. On the 2nd night, someone got this great idea -- instead of cooking, let's eat at the place at the entrance to the resort community. It has to be good, right?
(cue horror movie music)
We drive out to Billy's. We're greeted by a big "Trump" sign. Now, I have nothing against either Trump or Clinton, except that they're both friggin' wingnuts who clearly need to be sized up for straitjacket. But I digress.
We walk inside and see the usual plastic sea critters stuck in a net that's stapled to the wall. Okay, whatever, I'm not a decorator. And it doesn't smell horrible, so we help the waitress push a couple of tables together and sit down. She tosses five laminated menus on the six-top table. Well, we're all literate and can share.
She wants to take our food order. We haven't ordered drinks yet, so we gently ask if the bar is open and if we can get some drinks going first. She gets the hint...we think there may be some hope. We get some drinks, and now we've had some time to review the menu.
Every place up and down the coast brags on their clam chowder. The rivalries and trash talk are apparently fierce enough that the Jets and the Sharks bust out the switchblades and the zipguns on Friday nights at the farmer's market, so we all want to order that as an appetizer. Then we find that all of the seafood is breaded and fried. Dang. Well, once in awhile, that's okay. So we order.
Drinks go empty. We're dry for so long that when Snoopy's cousin, Spike, finally rolls in from Needles, CA, we try to roll his beagle ass for a flask. The waitress must have heard the barking, growling and yelping, and she finally brought another round. We settle down. One of the French guys who are with us is wondering if this is normal American restaurant behavior. We assure him that all is well. And keep drinking.
Finally the food arrives. All at once. We now have clam chowder and various lumps of fried, breaded stuff with French fries in front of us, "Ah, pomme frites?" Sebastian asks. But they're lukewarm. Y'know, where the grease isn't really coagulated yet, but it's getting there fast.
We don't have enough silverware for the table, so we ask our waitress if she might be able to scare some up. Mind you, the place isn't crowded: there are maybe two other tables besides ours. She disappears for a few minutes, then comes back and drops a handful of flatware on the table in a pile. Then leaves to go talk to the other table for awhile. I think her parents let her eat too many paint chips as a child.
We get food distributed to everyone at the table - except for the lady who suggested Smoothbrain's in the first place. So we take a few minutes to reel in Ms. Lead Poisoning 2016 to see if we can get our friend's order brought out. She goes to the back and comes back with the news that she forgot to place the order for it, so it'll be a little while. Our friend insists that we eat before the food gets cold(er).
It didn't help. The chowder clearly came from Campbell's of Camden (that means "from a can" for those of you still at Billy's). Everything else was greasy, deep fried grossness. None of it was identifiable. We ate slowly until our friend's food came, and even though her food was hot, it only took a couple of bites before she'd had enough.
We settled up and left, hoping our guts wouldn't rebel before we got back to the house.
Short story: don't eat here, unless you simply have a soft spot in your heart for kids who chewed on too many windowsills. read more