Heartland Cafe

One evening, Tex and I decided to try the Heartland Café in the Admiral District of West Seattle for dinner.  I had seen the café several times and its adjoining back bar, but had never patronized the establishment.  Tex told me that he had been there before and enjoyed a decent breakfast.

When we entered, only 2 other customers were in the front restaurant sharing a booth.  We could see into the “diner-style” kitchen from the front door.  A very young waitress took us to a booth just a few away from the other patrons.  Of course, the café was so small we would have been near them no matter what.

As we sat down and began to peruse the menus, Tex looked around and then commented that the establishment looked like a Greyhound bus station.  I had to agree.

As I perused the menu, I jumped in excitement at the sight of chicken fried steak on the menu – as a dinner item!  Tex smiled and was pleased to find its accompaniment was broccoli.  He always likes broccoli.

We ordered wine and a popcorn shrimp appetizer.  The waitress was very nervous at her young age (16?) and asked if we wanted silverware.  We declined the use of utensils for our typically eaten-by-hand appetizer choice.  The wine selection was minimal and it felt as if we should say either “white” or “red” and no more. 

I excused myself to use the restroom and soon was traveling down a long corridor with many rooms shooting off from it.  This place was huge!  They had a game room complete with Monopoly and Connect Four on the shelf, and the bar looked like the aft of a pirate ship.  I couldn’t recall the name of the back bar, but it obviously had a pirate theme.  It was probably named “Ahoy Matey” or something similar.

On my trek to the bathroom I was amazed when I walked across a Plexiglas covering in the floor – only to find coi fish swimming beneath me.  I was amused by the fact that live fish were in the floor, but then wondered if they were the fish special for the evening.  After finishing my business in the broken down and somewhat scary restroom, I returned to the table.

When I returned, I found the popcorn shrimp had arrived and Tex was looking perplexed, as he could not find a napkin to wipe his shellfish-battered paws.  The waitress returned and we desperately asked for napkins, confused that they were not delivered in the first place.  The popcorn shrimp tasted like…well, popcorn shrimp. 

We chatted in the quiet restaurant and hoped that the increasingly nervous waitress would not pop up again until the food was served.  We sipped our relatively awful wine and I told Tex of the various rooms (and fish!) in the back of the restaurant.

The food finally arrived and looked decent enough.  I had ordered a pork loin.  I dove in first and was very underwhelmed with my selection.  The pork was very dry and I had to take a sip of wine or water between bites to keep my salivary glands producing the necessary lubricant to swallow the meat.

Tex eyed his chicken fried steak favorably (although he forgot to order the gravy on the side).  He cut off a few pieces and slowly began to consume them.  His first comment was that the chicken fried steak was well fried and quite satisfying.  It tasted of smothered gravy although a bit too much on the salty side.  After noticing that the breading was sticking to the meat nicely he commented, “The family is staying together.”  All in all, he felt the steak itself was a decent meal and he did finish the whole thing.

The side dishes were a different story.  Both Tex and I had the mashed potatoes and for whatever reason, they tasted divine.  After several bites, Tex looked up at me and said, “These mashed potatoes are fantastic.  I’d like to bathe in them!”  I laughed and heartily agreed with his sentiment.

The broccoli, on the other hand, was a mess.  At first Tex commented that he thought the broccoli looked appetizing, but that it tasted as if it was from a can.  As he kept picking at the green dinosaur trees, he looked up at me and said, “I don’t understand the broccoli.  It tastes like it came from outer space.  It’s like the broccoli was steamed in baseball player jock water or dirty laundry water.”  He made a face and then pushed the rest of the vegetable aside.  Amidst my laughter, I was nodding in agreement.

We finished up the meal and our nervous waitress did her best to run 2 credit cards using a 50/50 ratio.  We could tell that math was hard for her.  We then quickly exited the establishment and headed home.

Although Heartland Café’s chicken fried steak was actually fairly tasty, the rest of the experience from the accompaniments to the atmosphere let us down.  The only reason to return to the Heartland Café would be to bathe in those mashed potatoes.