It was with high hopes that my wife and I ventured into Morgan's on this Saturday after Christmas. Since moving into town a little over a year ago, we've not been impressed with the establishments that Allentownies gush over in their inappropriately gratuitous ratings and reviews. That being said, at three and a half stars, perhaps Morgan's would be that diamond in the rough that everybody else had overlooked.
Walking up from the outside, you get the feeling that something better than mediocre awaits. Once inside, you are greeted by a room cut in half by an odd partition wall. On one side is the hostess stand. On the other is the bar and banquet area. After playing peekaboo with the hostess, my wife and I settled down at the bar. They had a single flat screen that at least had a relevant sporting event showing on the screen. The bartender seemingly had better places to be, though her service was adequate. She took our drink order in between chews of her bubble gum, then proceeded to discover that the bar was out of America's most popular vodka (look it up), Grey Goose. Not a major setback though, as we switched it up to another less popular brand. Of course they had plenty of that one.
As we enjoyed our cocktails, the plain dullness of the bar area began to envelop us. Nothing about it made you feel relaxed or even comfortable. Chairs were vintage 80s with hideously upholstered cushions and hard wooden backs that only your grade school English teacher could truly appreciate. So on to dinner we go...
We chose to start our culinary adventure with the fried mozzarella. For just over nine bucks, we imagined there would be more than enough to share. Oddly though, the bartender asked us if were only ordering one. Hmmmm we wondered... Shouldn't a nine dollar piece of cheese be enough? Her foreshadowing of disappointment was confirmed when the mozzarella came out considerably smaller than our minds allowed us to believe it could be. Though tasty, the bed of field greens it came out on was oddly unnecessary and the marinara could have been out of a jar. Once finished, we both decided to order the filet mignon special, which was to come with bacon horseradish mashed potatoes and chive butter. Medium was our temperature of choice and we chose the creamy gorgonzola for our salads.
Remember those oddly unnecessary field greens from earlier? Well wouldn't you believe that they showed back up on our salad plates with a tiny plastic dixie cup of creamy gorgonzola. From garnish to salad, coupled now with what turned out to be a watered down version of blue cheese dressing. As we poured it on the salads, it meandered its way right to the bottom of our plates. With the salad came a modest bread basket with two pieces of rye and two pieces of some kind of spice bread. Though the rye seemed possibly fresh, the spice bread had that sheen you would find in a Giant-brand product made with only the finest hydrogenated oils. Maybe Christmas leftovers from grandma's house made it into the kitchen.
When the steaks finally arrived, I was immediately struck by the afterthought that was the "vegetable du jour", green beans. Not only did they look woefully out of place on the plate, but they were devoid of even the smallest hint of seasoning. The steak itself was adequate, though at least one notch undercooked from the medium we both ordered. We honestly didn't mind having it more on the rare side (though you might), knowing that the juices would be soaked up by what should have been amazing bacon horseradish mashed potatoes. Instead, the steak sat on a bed of dry lumpy potatoes that I'm still trying to find the taste of bacon or horseradish in. I also began to feel that the only salt in the restaurant was in the shaker sitting in front of me. The kitchen must have run out, because I needed to season everything on my plate.
And so I wish my journey ended there... But it didn't. Nature called and I needed to get rid of some of the beer I had with my dinner. One look at the underside of the toilet seat and it was clear somebody left that stall feeling considerably better than when they walked in. Who knows how long ago that was though.
And so it ends. A quick $107 dinner, with gratuity. For once I should have listened to the Allentownies. Though far too generous at three and a half stars, seems others before us knew the truth we were hopeful not to find. read more