Gregg’s Restaurant Review
“Rhode Island’s #1 hidden gem”, the sign read in the window as we pulled open the doors and cascaded down a flight of hard-to-miss stairs. The tavern section of this family-style RI-based chain restaurant calls out for its comfort-seeking audience in both atmosphere and menu options. My roommate and I picked up that call on an unremarkable Tuesday, and found ourselves in what felt like the wisps of a speakeasy in a mid-2000’s basement, worthy of a casual night out.
Seriously- we’ve all been in one. Neutral carpet, fiber paneling wrapping the walls in almost the same shade but not quite, wooden accents and dark leather chairs, inconsistently lit by built in lighting, as if they were afraid to announce their presence in the room. Eight TV’s span equal distances, built-into the plush partitions. Soft pop plays at a moderate volume as we seat ourselves in a corner-booth. The bar has far more attention than the dining area, with a few couples caught up in conversation. Relax, kick-back, have a few drinks- it’s just like home!
Gregg’s, a Rhode Island based chain, has founded four cozy creations since 1972. Their goals included providing a family-style restaurant with affordable prices, according to their website. The menu back then was limited to sandwiches, soups, chowders, salads and a bakery with alcoholic drinks. Simple, and easy to keep economical. It seems that original concept that fueled their local successes has become a “comfortable, delicious, high-quality and homestyle” mouthful that’s hard to pin down. The variety of food we found in the laminated 10 page spiral-notebook menu gave the impression that it could meet every type of craving we could think of. Liver n Onions ($18.69), Shrimp Tacos ($16.99) and Protein Power Salad ($17.99) all under the same roof does not bring me comfort at all.
The first of Gregg’s edible offerings brought a split view. A small bowl of bright-yellow popcorn and a smaller dish of cucumbers came unexpectedly after our sodas. The popcorn accomplished the obvious goals: salty, buttery, popped. The cucumber, however, seemed confused on its purpose, after one bite revealed there to be a pickle-essence enveloped in a bendy yet soft casing. Did the pickle juice spill over in the walk-in? Or is this an attempt of expedited pickling on a freezer burned vegetable? The cucumbers joined us at the end of our table, as unlikely spectators of our meal.
Our dinner course came fried; crunchy mozzarella sticks ($10.49) and onion rings with a shaved steak and cheese sandwich ($15.49). The sandwich was stuffed with “lean and thinly sliced” meat that boldly lacked the flavor that invites you to take another bite. Beads of butter formed on our hands in place of sweat as we cradled the bread that unsuccessfully kept its contents. We made use of the fluffy yet bitter-lettuce and raw tomato garnish taking up one-third of the plate, then pulled the plug on the “torpedo” roll’s launch into our stomachs.
Once the formalities were sampled, our server sensed our unfinished business and cautiously presented the dessert menu. We already knew what we wanted- to die. “Two slices of Death by Chocolate please” we ordered as if we were holding in a secret that we could finally share. The to-go containers were popped-open once placed on the table, an ironic sentiment to the choice of taking it home. Each slice has five layers of chocolate, cut proportionately to the almost $20 tab for dessert alone. A delicate sweetness envelops my mouth as a cold chunk is scraped off the spoon whole. The third edge covered in chocolate chips begs to be included in each spoonful, but it’s best to conserve until the end. The endless moisture of the cake will last at least two days after the meal- that’s the longest i’ve gone until I finish a slice.
Gregg’s cake will continue to haunt my dreams until I order another slice of deathly heaven (online). They definitely have a deep understanding of the homey feel, everything below the first floor. It might not be exciting enough, unless you already have claimed your week-night slot at the bar or your slice of cake in the case.
