Perhaps best known for the cutting minor satire it received in the movie Office Space (at least amongst my friends), TGIF has long been synonymous with ebullient waitstaff profoundly excited to serve you some fried food. These days, with less flair.
Get past the pasted-on smiles and bouncing, methy staff and you'll find that TGIF offers a little twist on the usual casual chain menu tropes: an Asian influence.
Maybe influence is too strong a word, but after my first few trips to the other joints, the mere mention of panko bread crumbs or potstickers on the menu cut like a beacon of hope through my fat-addled mind. The restaurant has also recently introduced smaller portions of many of its classics, which manages to buck the gutbusting philosophy of most chains and cut down — a tad — on the costs.
And besides a ubiquitous Jack Daniels glaze seemingly stolen from Krispy Kreme (it's sweet, get it?) the grilled items are happily unfussy, with nary a slab of cheese or piece of bacon in sight. Wow.
Most of the rest of the menu contains the same artery- and colon-clogging fare you'll find at the other places, despite the brief nod to those vaguely Asian ingredients. I feel teased.
And despite the gratefully stark grilled meats and the restaurant's alliance with lesser-known TV chef Guy Fieri (described, unironically, as "chef dude"), TGIF's food doesn't ever rise to compete with most independent bar and grill joints. Still, among the three clones represented in my experiment, this will be the first place I return to. In another decade or so.
RATING: 3 JACK CHAMPIONSHIP SLIDERS (OUT OF 10)
This article appears in Jan 21-27, 2009.