In the end we ate Thanksgiving dinner at Bob Evan’s yesterday. It was easy, which counted for a lot under the circumstances.
We didn’t have to make conversation with other guests; we didn’t have to dress and bring a hostess gift; and we didn’t have a ton of dishes in the kitchen sink when the feast was over. The price was right too.
Hoping to avoid both the mid-day rush and the early evening onslaught, we arrived around 4 PM. There were plenty of empty tables, although most needed to be cleared. But a waitress found one for us, and we settled in. The menu offered turkey and dressing or ham or chicken fried steak as the entrée with three sides, unlimited bread, and dessert. A dollop of cranberry sauce was also included.
The service was erratic as other diners wandered in: one couple in their pajamas, an older man pushing a woman in a wheelchair, two men, a woman alone with a walker. I wondered what brought them all here, and I hoped that – like us – it was a personal choice and not their only alternative.
Truthfully, we had a miserable experience at this same Bob Evan’s three, maybe four, years ago and told the cashier we’d never come back. We hadn’t either. But of all the alternatives we considered, this seemed the best way to get stuffing, which is what I like most about the Thanksgiving meal. I ordered a double helping and was rewarded with four giant scoops of it.
With that Bob Evans redeemed itself, and I rated the day an 8.
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