Food & Whine!

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

Yes, I am breaking into song.  No, it's not Christmas time, even if Target secretly has some decorations out behind the Halloween stuff!

I'm talking about the International Food & Wine Festival at Epcot!  I was able to attend for the first time last year and it was, as the kids say, AMAZEBALLS!
Like a shark in a feeding frenzy I desperately swam from booth to booth sampling amazing (and okay, a few not so great) food samples.

I thought about posting some of my favorites from last year, as well as some that I'd caution you to avoid, should you be heading to F&W this year.  I promise I will.
But it occurred to me to share another WDW food related story today.  Think of it as a cautionary tale, as this particular eatery stands year round.  Though if we're lucky, maybe one of these days they'll roll the big ball right out of Downtown Disney in favor of something a bit more favorable and exciting.

Enjoy another excerpt torn right out of my upcoming book . . .

My second night in town, I was heading to Downtown Disney to pick up a little something for my wife and kids so it seemed the perfect night to score my cheap meal at Planet Hollywood.  That afternoon I'd had a couple beers at the hotel, took a combat nap, and grabbed a quick shower before heading out.  It was already coming on 7:00 by time I found myself approaching the first host stand at Planet Hollywood. Planet Hollywood isn't hard to find. It's literally a giant globe rising over the rest of Downtown Disney with the words Planet Hollywood in bright red lights.  You really can’t miss it.  You'll want to though. 

"Do NOT get sucked up this tube!"

I encountered two younger spiky haired employees with clipboards and radios as I walked up to see if I needed to put my name on a list.  They gave me an askew glance when I said it was just me.  They told me to head on up the stairs (the restaurant is actually in the middle of the giant globe so there's a metal staircase to climb - another reason you'd have to be really hungry to eat here.)  At the top of the stairs was another gaggle of hip, punky whippersnappers wearing Planet Hollywood gear.  A little portly dude with slick black hair (and I'm pretty sure eyeliner) wearing a far too tight black t-shirt asked me how many were in my party.  Again I said "just one."  And again I got that strange look like I'd just peed on someone's shoes. He followed it with a roll of the eyes and a faint noise like steam escaping.  The area outside the entrance looks like a red carpet event in Hollywood.  There was also really loud club music pumping overhead like we were about to enter some L.A. hotspot.  Me, with my graying beard and man-purse (yeah that's right) clearly didn't fit their definition of "cool clientele."  You could cut the attitude I was catching from these community college dropouts with a chainsaw (hmm, give one an idea.)  If everything in Walt Disney World tells a story, but Planet Hollywood’s story belong in a trashy tabloid magazine my wife leaves in the john. It was starting to piss me off.  If these B-roll reality stars didn't cool it and show me just a little respect as a customer (with a coupon) the story wasn't going to have a happy ending. Although they might end up on TV!

I was told to go inside and prepare for my third check-in / wait.  Fortunately, being a table of one, I was ushered through pretty quickly and taken to a small two-top wedged in among a row of them.  I was sitting under Jim Carrey's bike from The Truman Show.  The thumping, bumping house music was even louder and nearly intolerable inside.  It became quickly apparent that Planet Hollywood, at least this particular location was suffering from an identity crisis.  It was a movie themed restaurant that wanted to be a cool and trendy nightspot.  

My waitress did appear quickly and was friendly which is a plus - and believe me I was already keeping score – although she did give me that “oh you poor thing, eating all alone” voice a few times.  She pointed out some specialty drinks and my eyes zeroed-in on a margarita-like concoction called the Iron Man.  My head was spinning from the music so I quickly said go ahead and bring me one of those. After all, it was called an Iron Man!  I flipped through the menu while waiting for my drink.  It was basically the same selections as a T.G.I. Fridays, with the exception that everything cost roughly twice as much. 

The more I explored my options the more I realized that $15.00 credit would be but a drop in the ol’ bucket. Hell, it would barely cover the two drinks I'd end up having.  Still, I was bored with burgers (the cheapest item on the menu, besides a side salad) and wanted to get something unique that represented their menu.  After all, the place might have been extremely loud and tacky with more than an air of undeserved pretension (damn I should be a writer) but if the food was good, at least they’d earn some of their attitude.  Unfortunately nothing was grabbing me.  

Planet Hollywood claims they're famous for their lasagna.  I think infamous might be a more appropriate choice of wording.  It’s true their lasagna is like no other I've ever seen, but that's not exactly a compliment.  They use this strange cylindrical noodle/shell creation, stuff it with all the lasagna ingredients and serve the tubes standing straight up on their ends.  It might be one of the strangest entrees I've ever seen.  However I will say if I were directing a sci-fi movie set on some distant planet, I might use their lasagna as the model for an alien city!  

"Spock, there's no intelligent life behind this lasagna!"

The waitress tried pushing their signature lasagna-wannabe on me, but I was not interested.  I finally shot for the middle and ordered fajitas.  It felt like a strange choice, but again, didn't want another burger but wasn't going with one of their weird Hollywood concoctions.  Plus, you really can’t screw up fajitas, can you?  Honestly, their fajitas were just, uh, fajita-y. Weakly seasoned strips of steak and chicken and grilled peppers and onion. Not horrible, but not exactly exciting either. What the kids call (shrugging shoulders) “meh.”

By the time I was finished the place was actually packed which surprised me on a Thursday night.  My head was throbbing and not from the limp Iron Man cocktails as it should have been!  It was time to make my escape.  When the bill came that $15.00 voucher covered exactly half.  I guess I shouldn't complain, except that I was by myself.  Thirty bucks for one person!  There were big families in there.  I can't imagine what they were going to be paying for their mediocre meals and irritating ambiance.  Especially when half the

movie memorabilia was virtually unrecognizable! I wouldn't say it had been the worst dining experience of my life, but it was disappointing.  I could have gone to a number of the other restaurants in Downtown Disney and for $30 bucks (or less) had a much more satisfying experience.  As they say, you get what you pay for.

After settling up I headed toward the exit, then realized my business with Planet Hollywood was not finished yet. I had one more voucher and Planet Hollywood had one more shot at a favorable review. Along with the dining credit there was a coupon for a free souvenir at the Planet Hollywood gift shop. I like most guys like to get something for free. Maybe even a little more. I'm somewhere between picker and hoarder. Whatever, free is free!  So I sauntered up to the gift shop area which was little more than a partition wall with shelves of t-shirts, hats, and mugs all emblazoned with the PH logo. Nothing I was looking to wear, except maybe for sleeping or mowing the lawn (or pumping iron, Arnie-style, of course!)  The girl behind the counter with teased up hair and too much make-up asked if she could help with a big ol' grin.  I whipped out my voucher and asked "what can I do with this?" 

The joy on her face quickly, visibly melted away.  I could read her mind.  Another cheapskate with the coupon. She really wanted to tell me what to do with it!

"You get a keychain," she answered flatly. 

I could see a number of key chains under the glass that looked cool enough.  I can always use a keychain, and if not my kid would love it.  She must have been tracking my gaze.

"It's a special one Planet Hollywood has made for that coupon," she said, revealing a basket full of individually wrapped shiny objects. They looked like fishing lures. "Still want it?"

Again, free is free. I shrugged and took my free gift. She snatched my voucher with a sigh and literally turned away to go talk to other potential customers looking at t-shirts with actual intent to buy.  With one quick glance I could see my new keychain was a joke.  It was about the size of a nickel, maybe a quarter on a good day.  A simple metal Planet Hollywood globe and the PH Orlando logo.  I dropped it in my bag and made my way out.  Not a single "have a nice night" or "thanks for coming."  Just more pounding house music until I quickly escaped down the stairs and away from that horrific sphere.

I spent the rest of the evening milling around Downtown Disney, noting all the restaurants I should have eaten at, coupon or not.  There's great seafood at Fultons Crabhouse or delicious Italian cuisine at Portobello. Hell, I’d have tried the Cuban food in the giant pineapple. Bongo’s Cuban Cafe in Downtown Disney West Side is, much like the home of Mr. Squarepants is shaped like a pineapple. I could've gotten a plate of chorizo & beef skewers (spicy grilled meat on sticks, ya feel me?) and the amazing Argentinian skirt steak at Paradiso 37. Sure it would have cost more than $30 bucks, but I'd have waddled out in a meat induced joyful haze! Eveng oing cheap, I'd have been thrilled with the Holiday sandwich at Earl of Sandwich! It's thanksgiving smashed between bread, right down to the cranberry sauce! 

The list of better options goes on and on. Sure a lot of the restaurants in Downtown are loud and touristy too but the food and the service live up to the hype. Instead I let my wallet make my decision, going against the very rule I keep spouting.

Fortunately I soon found myself sitting outside one Downtown Disney’s best kept secrets, and refuge for all real men, Fuego by Sosa Family Cigars. Pinching a nice, relatively cheap Honduran (anywhere outside of WDW that would mean something entirely different) and a bourbon, the bitter taste of brash, tasteless commercialism was soon washed from my mouth. It faded away into the Florida moonlight with a few puffs of blue smoke.  Of course, that little treat cost me almost as much as my dinner. Yet I didn't bat an eye at the receipt. The difference of course was value. Quality isn’t necessarily cheap, but is almost always worth it.