There is really a homicidal ring to anything monosyllabic attached to the word Texas. I apologize to the Texans; blame the stigma of cinema. On the other hand, I adore tex-mex cuisine, though can never for the life of me raise a cactus.
Speaking of massacre and bloodshed, Texas Roadhouse Grill along BGC can definitely play host to gastronomic carnage of the gluttonous. Imagine hoards of fajitas, salads and the free-for-all peanuts gracing the table with a small plate to drive you mad. Yes, food slaughter is the best way to address this helpless situation.
Trying to personify my new self-imposed designation as salad blogger, mine was the Cobb Salad (the big one) to cherish, behold and finish. Topped with breaded chicken, tomatoes, cheese, egg and everything else for the cobb, it was a relishing experience of flavors. Apart from the already drizzled dressing, ranch was served on the side, while I requested the bacon to be placed on a separate saucer. Calorific, I know, but satisfying, terribly!
A serving of calamari was ordered and this actually went well with the Cobb Salad. Much better than pairing it with its own marinara sauce.
The Chicken Fajitas came with the aroma that could be detected a mile away. Compared to Chili’s, this serving still catered to more room for dessert (Jamba Juice!) and quite an aversion to red bell pepper once the meal is over. Still, for a one-man meal (translation: refusal to share) this ought to be enough with its tortilla wraps, salsa and cheese toppings. It just so happens that my source was the chicken monster who could devour 10 chicken breasts after medication, which I don’t suppose is the average diner’s capacity.
Lastly came the pork chops topped with Swiss cheese, complete with rice and a siding of veggies. Go, grow and glow, what more can a Science teacher ask for? The miserable diner was no science teacher and seemed to be asking for a whole lot more and it wasn’t because the serving was small. He wanted the Fajitas too.
Should there be a real Texas Roadhouse Massacre, now you know where the chainsaw will land first.
Bloodshed or not, Texas Roadhouse Grill has been a bloody feast and save for the sad, sad chops, we’re coming back for the others. Piece by piece.