The Kid Food Critics' Review of Mom's Cooking

Once and awhile, we encounter an eatery so terrible, so nightmarish, so insulting to the palette that we are forced to write a negative review, as well as whine, complain, melt down, and occasionally throw the cuisine on the floor.  Mom's Cooking warrants all of those reactions, we hate to tell you.  We do feel marginally bad about it, given that the meals are free, and the chef is an indentured servant who gave birth to us.  But, really, there is absolutely no excuse for poor quality.

We have had the misfortune of dining here hundreds of times, and it has never gotten even a scintilla better over time.  From the boring-yet-not-chicken-nuggets offerings to the appalling ambience, cleanliness, and noise levels, these proprietors should bribe their patrons per bite.  Oh wait, they do.  And it's not enough.  Here are our key gripes.

Too much repetition.  We support a restaurant's continuation of popular hits, but after the thirty-second time of being served hot dogs, one demands some variety, as long as it is still hot dogs.  Mom's Cooking completely misses the mark when it comes to repeating unvaried foods.  Top chefs know what their diners want, anticipate their evolving tastes, and know that today they hate foods they insist on eating every other day.  How dare Mom's Cooking serve us chicken nuggets when we eat them only when another food is offered?  Such a shocking lack of consideration should never be tolerated in the restaurant industry.

Bacon quiche, one of Mom's Cooking's better dishes,
gets tedious after a few dozen times.
Strange combinations of foods.   We enjoy chicken, rice and cheese, but Mom's Cooking has the audacity to mix these items together, creating an inedible abomination.  Ideally, all food should be pure and deconstructed on a molecular level so that the palette is not overwhelmed or discombobulated by superfluous flavors.

Cheesy Chicken and Rice is made from
all delicious things, and yet you put them together
and it is wretched. 

Speaking of flavor, we prefer none.  We have been repeatedly and utterly shocked by the use of seasonings other than salt.  Most offensive is any sort of spice, to include black pepper, which scalds the tongue like a potent acid. Is Mom's Cooking trying to send its diners to the hospital? We have our concerns.

The go-to meal at Mom's Cooking. It is at once
mandatory and hideous.  We are unhappy if it
is served and outraged if it is not.  
The incorporation of items that grow in the ground and on trees.  Mom's Cooking continues to insist on serving premodern, barbaric offerings, such as vegetables. It's almost as if Mom's Cooking has not yet received the earth-shattering news of humanity's invention of processed foods, which render eating anything naturally green unnecessary and obsolete.    It is frankly insulting and horribly gauche.

An extremely limited dessert menu.   If we are being honest, any menu that is not entirely comprised of desserts has a dessert menu that is too limited in our view.  A proper, civilized meal should contain courses of ice cream, cake, cookies, brownies, pie, and pudding.  The absence of any one of those items is an affront to fine dining and to decent society as a whole.

Moving on to ambience, well, there is none, much less basic sanitation.  The table is encrusted with remnants of a previous meal, a previous craft, a previous injury.  Why the Department of Health hasn't shut this place down mystifies us.  The tableware is chipped and mismatched, and not in a funky-fun-creative-hipster way. The noise levels are of an unacceptable decibel, edged upward by the chef yelling through tears at unsatisfied diners, an Amazon Echo randomly blasting potty-humor-themed songs, and the annoying yelps of a dog who, were he not so adorable, would definitely be incorporated into an authentic Chinese dish.  Given the misery of the place, we could not help but add our discontented voices to the mix.  Can you really blame us?

In summary, we give Mom's Cooking no stars, no credit, and no mercy.  The only reason to eat here would be if you had a hankering for a frozen burrito up until the second it is served, dream of meting out vengeance on broccoli, and enjoy tormenting another human being.   Even then, your local school cafeteria would be a superior option, albeit more expensive.


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