“Rat-A-Tat-Tat Please Come Back” this slogan along with bullet holes is found on the T-shirts of all the employees. The Hide-A-Way Resort was built in 1938 as a gangsters ‘funhouse’. I am not really sure what that means but that is how the owners advertise the place. I can tell you this much, the gangsters must have felt very safe because I tried to find the joint last week (see the Silver Birch review) and tried again this week. This time I took the car with the GPS. As we left the house I smiled at the Little Marinara and told her no problamo we will find it this time. 18 miles later the Bitch in the Box told me that trip guidance was no longer available. We are on a gravel road in the middle of nowhere and I am having a bad feeling that I am again screwed. We are driving down some road and all of a sudden see a sign for the Hide-A-Way, I am thinking that I might take credit for my great navigational skills but decide that I don’t want a smack upside the head so I leave it rest. Smart move – for once.
We park in a field adjacent to the restaurant and it appears that the place is packed. This is a good sign, they probably have decent food. The immediate downside is the climb up the stairs to get to the bar and restaurant, but we make it and luck out and find two spots at the bar. They let me smoke a cigar and have an idea how to make a Martini. We register for a table with Bob and two drinks and an hour and a half later we are told our table is ready. We are hungry and looking forward to food. Our waitress comes over and brings us one (1) glass of water; we never get an answer as to why only one and we never get another glass of water. I can only surmise that since they are busy, water glasses must be a rare commodity, on the other hand maybe they only have 20 glasses and this is normal. Oh well, Marilyn orders the Blue Gill with Hashbrowns ($11.00) and I order the Fish Fry which happens to be all you can eat ($9.00). 40 minutes later I flag down our waitress to find out the status of the food, she tell us not too much longer, I ask her for some bread or crackers she willingly complies and returns with a small loaf of bread and some butter. Another 30 minutes elapses and I again ask her for an update on the food, I am told that since the Little Marinara ordered Hashbrowns the food takes longer to prepare – I am not sure if I should laugh or be pissed-off or both – I choose both. A minute or two later the food appears; now I have to try and not let my attitude cloud my judgment of the food. To my great relief I did not need to worry; the food was average on its own and did not need help from my less that stellar attitude. Marilyn received three pieces of Blue Gill, warm Cole Slaw and Hashbrown that had a very odd aftertaste; they were probably infused with other delectable delights on the hottop prior to serving. I receive two pieces of bland Cod, Deep Fried Freezer Fries and warm Cole Slaw. Our waitress asked if I wanted more fish and just out of curiosity to see how long it would lake I ordered one more piece – 15 minutes later it arrives – I asked for the check at the same time to make sure we would get out on the same evening. A table next to us asked to have the food boxed as they were tired of waiting. Our neighbors from the lake were also there and the following day I asked how long they waited and it was over an hour from the time they were seated.
So much for spending an evening at the gangsters ‘funhouse’, it would probably be more fun to drive a nail into my head than go through that ordeal again. Since I have had a few Martinis the Little Marinara drives home, she makes two turns and has us back at the house in 15 minutes – so much for my internal compass and the GPS.The Big Ragu gives this a 2 Outa 5. “Rat-A-Tat-Tat I won’t be back”