Hibachi Grill Supreme Buffet - Enfield CT
The standard format of this blog will not suffice for this experience.
Instead, I present a quick sensory tour of a fried food feeding frenzy.
The Scene: As you walk in, the most amazingly tacky, lit, spinning plastic-encrusted sculpture mesmerizes you. People stand in line and take a number at the front desk. Questions of the wait-time are simply ignored. A cloud of prospective feeders stand and stare at those who are seated, and glance from time to time at the seldom-Windexed buffet kiosks. Steel trays of fried food continue to be brought out on pushed trolleys. These full trays take the place of empty trays. The steel pans are exchanged with a clang; the sweat of condensation flies into the other trays of food. At a distant table, a customer is berating his watermelon slices to a waitress who cannot understand anything but the main emotion: anger. In frustration, she grabs his tall plastic soda glass and jogs to refill it. The line for the use of the hibachi griddle is long, and those standing at it are becoming noticeably annoyed. As the sushi chef checks his cell phone, children stab untaken food with chopsticks as if to impale them. People return to their seats with steaming-hot dishes piled high with fried, glistening treats. The salad bar is lonesome; the leaves are splayed all over the salad kiosk and the dressings have intermingled considerably. People flock to the freshly-laid bucket of Chinese sugar-coated "doughnuts" and smile with approval at the new pan of home-fries not two slots down from where they stand.
The Tastes: All fried objects are crispy and hot, which makes them excellent - except, of course, if they are filled with something. The "Cheese Wontons" are actually Crab Rangoons (which might come back to bite them if someone has a seafood allergy). The Egg Custard puffs are actually delicious. The Spring Rolls are quite strange, but at least they are small. The French Fries are hot, well-cooked, and well-salted. The Chinese "doughnuts" are well-sugared and puffy. The "Gyoza" are good, but filled with a filling that really does taste like breakfast sausage. The Lo Mein is hot, but the veggies are soggy. The fried rice is good, unless you come upon a piece of pork cartilage. A friend's hibachi order was practically (and unfortunately) raw. The "BUOFOLLOUW WENGS" (exact spelling) were as stiff as a crouton and devoid of "BUOFOLLOUW" sauce. Fear not; the pudding and cake-like desserts are interesting, palatable and appealing to the eye. You will probably not leave hungry; but you will leave greased out, unless you actually want to eat a vegetable. In that case, why on earth are you here?
People-Watching: A woman behind us regurgitated her honeydew melon back onto her dish as we stood to acquire our fried delicacies for the first time. The children of patrons enjoy running near the buffet kiosks and playing with the food. People around us complain about the food to waitresses who don't have the time to listen or the English to understand. (I'd have to side with the waitress here - for a pittance, you can fill your gullet and go get something else if you don't like what you have taken. Its not like the waitresses are cooking what the complainers are rapidly inhaling). A table of teenagers sprint by us while laughing off into the night (did we just witness a "chew-and-screw"?). Legions of patrons stare off into space as their carbohydrate comas take hold of their consciousnesses.
Recommendation: You MUST go here once in your life. You Must - BEFORE you complete anything else on your bucket list. And not for the food. It is cheap and everything is hot and freshly fried. But the people-watching is truly second-to-none (and perhaps better than the casinos). Once you watch near-comatose people feed upon blazing-hot mountains of self-ladled greasy food, you will have earned your stale fortune cookie. You may feel free to absolutely stun your waitress by thanking her for her service (it was great to watch her reaction). As you walk off into the night, your inner barometer of what constitutes enjoyable dining versus humans in the act of rabid feeding will be recalibrated. Rejoice!