The Old Bag of Nails Pub (Chain, Ohio)

Thanksgiving, for much of my adult life, has been a simple affair. With a steadily growing diaspora among my family, my grandparents absconding to warmer climes, and my siblings rapidly marrying off, it often came down to me and my mother. We would usually drink and watch TV.

With the rapid onset of my own marriage, I was forced to come to terms with sharing holidays with the in-laws. And so, off we went, to small-town Ohio, on a pilgrimage my wife's family has undertaken for many a year.

With the customary gluttony that accompanies Thanksgiving, I had to find time, calories, and resolve to go eat onion rings as well. It was not a simple task (and probably set me back a good two weeks in my own health goals, eating the caloric equivalent of a dozen runs), but I have long since accepted my lot in life is one of sacrifice for the pleasure of others. In this case, it's for those who (inexplicably) read in-depth reviews of onion rings. Thanks, as always, for your longstanding support.

Here's a review of onion rings from the Old Bag of Nails Pub (at the Marysville, Ohio location). Thank you to my lovely wife for accompanying me.

Presentation and Appearance: (3.5/5)

Though the black plastic basket is fairly standard, the paper lining resplendent with fake newsprint was a bit more unique (though I have seen it once before at Kitchen 67). I didn't bother to read the content of the paper (likely Ohio-themed propaganda), but it did its best to emulate a "down-home" country-esque feel. The onion rings are at just the right amount to fill the basket and slightly heap, with two plastic containers of horseradish dipping sauce balanced precariously amidst ring and news, perhaps a fitting metaphor for the lack of attention paid to onion rings in modern journalism. 

The onion rings themselves are clearly hand battered, though a number are oddly squished and squashed, as though molded and fried under pressure to turn the characteristic "o" to something more akin to a "0". Overall, the batter strikes me as flaky and perhaps a bit loose, and cooked on the lighter side of golden brown. That said, they do make for a unique appearance, somewhat characteristic of tempura battering. 

Taste: (2.5/5)

These onion rings were a bit of a shock to me. Despite the tantalizing appearance, the batter wasn't very well seasoned. Much greasier than initial appearances led me to believe, the bulk of the batter flavor was a buttery smoothness. The onions themselves didn't add much to the dish, beyond a small hint of sweetness mixed in with the batter. 

The horseradish dipping sauce was a highlight, and was almost essential to whatever enjoyment I could derive from these rings. While not particularly strong, the creamy and smooth sauce mixed well with the buttery flavors of the batter.

However, at the core of it, it didn't feel much like eating an onion ring. It was more of a vaguely onion-tasting pastry shaped like a zero, filled with the delicious horseradish cream all schoolchildren know and love. 

Texture: (2/5)

Despite the buttery taste, the batter is fairly dry. The batter itself is a curiosity. It's almost as if it's made up of successive layers of batter, fried lightly and concurrently before serving. The enigma-laden batter demonstrates both shedding and slippage, as flecks depart the ring after each bite and the onion interior slips out between them. The rigidity of the batter is further complicated by its softness, almost like a sweet onion cake. 

The root cause of this is that the onion rings were undercooked. The interior layers are chewy and doughy, even while surrounded by the crispy flecks of the outer layers. I suspect this also accounts for the meager onion flavor. Though I'm fascinated by the batter, and applaud its ingenuity in delivering onion rings, I think it misses the mark on execution. 

Value: (3/5)

On a standard menu price, this large basket of onion rings cost $7.99. The quantity was impressive, and this was one of very few occasions I can recall where I had to request a to-go box for the remainder. This was no doubt influenced by the gluttony of Thanksgiving (and the subsequent meals at Bob Evans, a hotel breakfast buffet, and other reviews), but it's impressive nonetheless. 

As I worked long into the night in my hotel room, the cold onion rings beckoned to me, and ended up tasting better than they did fresh. I'm not sure what to make of that, which is a sentiment I'm forced to express for much of these rings. They are a curiosity from the depths of Ohio, that I will marvel at for the weeks and months to come. 

Total: 11/20

River North Public House (Grand Rapids, MI)

My eternally gracious wife has come to terms with the fact that any given date night has the strong likelihood of being used as an excuse to review onion rings. Indeed, on the latest occasion, I undertook a robust comparative analysis to identify a restaurant that a) served onion rings; b) I had not reviewed, and; c) had a happy hour of sufficiently good value to warrant going out. 

While the amount of effort I exert in reviewing onion rings may seem exorbitant and unnecessary, I can assure you that it is all in pursuit of a higher goal. That is, Sola Cepa. The $1 PBR draft didn't hurt either. 

Here is a review of onion rings from River North Public House in Grand Rapids, Michigan. 

Presentation and Appearance: (3/5)

Plated on a deep and dark blue plate, the onion rings are stacked in what some scholars might call a heap, if they were being generous. The plate, though striking, is far too big for the quantity of onion rings contained atop. Two separate dipping sauces (the radioactive orange "Honey Sriracha" and the creamy white "Grand River Sauce") rest in metal cups just beyond the onion rings.

My first impression of the rings themselves isn't positive. The batter is extremely dark and almost certainly overdone. The battering is irregular and patchy, including one ring cracked clean in half. Though there's a prodigious amount of batter-per-ring, it's not applied evenly, leading to cancerous tumors bulging from beyond the confines of the ring.

Taste: (3/5)

There are a few maxims I've picked up in my many years of reviewing onion rings. Chief among them is this; the eyes do not deceive. The discerning consumer can easily identify potential flaws in taste and texture by sight alone. This maxim showed its worth with these rings, as the batter was horribly overdone, and bordering on badly burnt. Occasional speckles of flavor eked through the charred-out remains of what once were onion rings, and these did hold a decent flavor, though it was overpowered.

These onion rings were made with red onions, which is a refreshing departure from the norm. However, the milder onion taste from the cooked red onions made it difficult for them to pierce through the blackened shell of batter. Despite these problems, I do have to give substantial credit to the sauces, both of which I've never experienced with onion rings before. The Honey Sriracha sauce coated the onion rings in an interesting veil that truly transformed the dish.

Unfortunately, I was not able to appreciate it given the burnt rings. The Grand River Sauce was substantially better, with its mix of tangy, savory, and slightly spicy flavors. If these onion rings had been executed well, I think both of these sauces would have brought them to a whole new level.

Texture: (1.5/5)

The batter is far, far too thick for these onion rings, expanding like a rapid algal bloom from the onion core. The balance between the batter and the onion is completely off. This is compounded by how badly overdone the batter is. On some bites, I feel like I'm trying to bite through charcoal in some bizarre hazing ritual - perhaps with some shattered remnants of grilled onion hiding in the ashes.

The batter itself is also patchy and uneven. The overwhelming thickness and rigidity of the batter made both shedding (batter chipping off of the ring) and slippage (onions slipping out of the ring) extremely common.

The onions, despite the clearly overdone batter, seemed almost underdone and dry. It's possible that these rings looped all the way around so as to extrude what little onion juices remained into the fryer, leaving me with a sad and empty bite. The dipping sauces remain the star, as they infuse some much needed moisture into every bite, though there's only so much that they can do.

Value: (3.5/5)

My inherent thrifty nature - some combination of culture, Dutch ancestry, and familial habits - can be exacting, and drives much of my life, including my penchant for both meal prep and happy hours. In this case, the River North Public House happy hour is a good deal, as these onion rings were a mere $4. For all the trouble in execution, I can see a theoretically good onion ring buried beneath the cinders of the batter, with a decent amount sitting on the plate.

However, were these to be at the standard price of $8, it would be a different story.

Total: 11/20

Culver's (Chain)

There was a brief period of my life after I lived free of the confines of family or school, yet before I could legally acquire alcohol. Attending school at the time in the middle of nowhere, with few amenities and fewer pleasures, meant traveling further afield for what would otherwise be mundane. I took several such sojourns with my roommate, Eric, to the nearest city and the nearest Culver's - a mere half hour's drive away - whenever our other roommate (Garrett) abandoned us for the weekend to spend time with his loving girlfriend. 

Eric is a man of few, strong passions: economics, beer, the Green Bay Packers, and Culver's. As I journeyed the five minutes down the street from my apartment last night to my neighborhood Culver's, my mind hearkened back to simpler times, when the warmth of cheese curds and a butter burger warmed the cockles of my cold, dead heart, giving me some small measure of meaning and purpose in those dark times. I think Eric just liked eating at Culver's.

Here's a review of onion rings from Culver's. 

Presentation and Appearance: (3.5/5)

With the convenience of fast food comes many a sacrifice for other luxuries. Despite the simplicity of the presentation of these onion rings (a small blue and white Culver's branded bag), I find myself oddly charmed. As I assume is taught at culinary schools around the nation, the quantity of onion rings exceeds the immediate space of the bag, spilling out in their circular glory. 

The onion rings themselves are cooked to a crisp, golden brown, with occasional specks of darker brown throughout. They are wildly variate in size, though fairly uniform in thickness. The battering is pockmarked, though this rarely exposes the onion core. As such, they do add a bit of pizzazz to the plate as a whole. 

(Culver's did not provide the plate, that's all me.) 

Taste: (2.5/5) 

The Culver's website, which has long been an authoritative source of information on the questions that wrack men's souls, notes that the onion rings are "salted the second they leave the fryer." True to their word, these onion rings are perfectly salted. There's enough to bring out the flavor of the battle, but not so much that it eclipses all other tastes. Taste-wise, the batter is the highlight of these rings, with other spices subtly mixed in with the salty flavor. 

Unfortunately, the onions fail to live up to the batter's standards. Though they are soft, plump, and juicy, there's next to no onion flavor coming with it. Such onion flavor that exists is pleasant, though skimpy. 

Texture: (3.5/5)

In what I can only assume is a remarkable feat of Wisconsin engineering, the batter was a marvelous mixture of brittle, yet firm. My first bite led the batter to crack and splinter, almost dissolving instantly in my mouth, and yet the rest of the onion ring remained firm. It's as though the batter was chemically designed to collapse after a bite, but only in the exposed areas. The strength of the batter was truly a marvel. 

However, its structural integrity was not matched by the plump onion within. The onions were perhaps a bit too soft, and prone to noodling out from inside the thick salty walls, though full-on slippage was thankfully rare. The onion portions were soft, but seemed at times more slimy than juicy. 

Value: (4/5)

Though somewhat lacking in onion taste, these well-seasoned rings provided a filling snack for a mere $2.99. Though I would be shocked if these onion rings weren't frozen, they were clearly cooked fresh and seasoned with love (which I assume tastes like salt). The batter is a shockingly high quality for mass-produced onion rings, and the quantity was just right. 

Total: (13.5/20)

Mexicali Blues (Arlington, VA)

For many years, I loathed D.C., by reputation, expense, and the fact that it was the seat of government and a hotbed of statist ambition, concocting countless plans to strangle freedom and the prosperity. Though the neverending regulations and interventions emanating from one of the thousands of nondescript buildings housing yet another in a line of countless federal bureaucracies may strangle prosperity and innovation, they do have some cool restaurants. 

So that's something, I guess. 

Here is a review of onion rings from Mexicali Blues in Arlington, Virginia. 

Presentation and Appearance: (4.5/5)

The plate itself is as modal as a plate can be; white and circular. Rather than relying on increasingly bizarre blends of baskets and papers to plate the onion rings, Mexicali Blues lets the onion rings shine. Each ring is delicately and ornately placed in a flavorful tableau, pleasing to the eye and (hopefully) the palate. Sprinkled on top is a garnish of freshly chopped cilantro, bringing some much needed color to the plate. 

The onion rings themselves are clearly hand battered, evidenced by both the cascading ridges surrounding the ring and the patchy covering evidenced on a handful of rings. In truth, the patchy battering is really the only ding I can give to the appearance of these rings, with each of them consistently colored in a golden brown and tinged with a hint of orange. 

Finally, a medium sized container of chipotle ranch fills out the rest of the plate. 

Taste: (5/5)

Over three years of some fifty-odd onion rings reviews (and dozens of others that never made it to print), I've learned one simple truth: almost nobody knows how to properly season onion ring batter. These are an exception. 

Per the menu, the rings are battered in buttermilk and chiles, an entirely new culinary innovation in the world of onion rings. The batter delivers the slightest bit of heat and the perfect burst of flavor packed into each bite, transforming the onion ring from a routine slice of Americana to a cultural and culinary journey. 

The taste of the onion is likewise measured and fitting, erring to no extreme in flavor. Though perhaps slightly undercooked, which generally leads to less onion juices and less grease, the minute rawness pairs will with the chile flavors. 

The chipotle ranch dipping sauce elevated both of these flavors in turn to a new plane of existence. Simultaneously creamy and smoky, the sauce oozes down to the onion core through the delicate batter, working in tandem to produce a cohesive bite. Finally, the occasional flecks of cilantro criss-crossing the top of the onion rings provide a pop of freshness, softening and elevating the accompanying flavors. 

Simply put, the flavors of these onion rings work together perfectly. 

Texture: (3/5)

For all the triumphs of taste and presentation, the texture of these onion rings are wanting. Slippage struck a handful of times, and it struck hard, as I desperately gulped down a strand of onion with an oversized swig of Modelo Especial. The flavorful batter was also unique for its rigidity and structure, holding firm under the pressure of hand and tooth. 

However, the strength of the batter is not matched by the onion. Though the underdone onions led to a delightful flavor profile, they were likewise too rigid, and too separated from the batter, to remain as cohesive in mouthfeel as they were in taste. If the onions were cooked just a touch longer, the added juices would glue the parts together, like birthday party decorations constructed by an attentive mother. Instead, they more resemble the haphazard attempts of a desperate husband flinging together decorations for a party his wife is making him throw for a concocted Instagram holiday, as he dreams of simpler times when he didn't own any throw pillows. 

Value: (3.5/5) 

I'm of a mixed mind on the value of the these rings. Though they made a filling meal with impeccable taste, the plate itself cost $9.95. Recognizing I am in the wildly expensive D.C. metropolitan area, I'm somewhat more forgiving than I would otherwise be, though the price is a little steep. For both the quality and the quantity of the rings, I'm fairly satisfied, albeit not overwhelmed. 

Overall: 16/20

Chili's (Chain)

I know what you're thinking. Why, after a ten month absence, would I come back with, of all things, Chili's? There are a number of factors that led to its selection, including Season 2, Episode 1 of The Office ("The Dundies," which takes place in a Chili's), Season 2, Episode 7 of The Office ("The Client," which also takes place partially in a Chili's, or "the new golf course" and features an Awesome Blossom), and its unique blend of of ubiquity and mediocrity.

Though a relic of a bygone era, its cultural impact continues to echo throughout the strip malls of American suburbia, all the more relevant in an increasingly urbanized world.

Here's a review of Awesome Blossom Petals from Chili's. Welcome back.

Presentation and Appearance: 4/5

In a twist on the prevailing norm the onion petals arrive in a metal box (or possibly an ineffective cheese grater), which is itself on an oversized square plate. The box is just the right size to contain the volume of the petals, overflowing every so slightly. A delicate sprinkle of what I can only assume to be a proprietary blend of Chili's seasoning coats the top layer, perhaps providing an extra boost of flavor. The accompanying "Blossom sauce" rests in a standard ramekin, albeit with some leakage reaching over the rim.

The petals themselves are fairly evenly coated and with a golden brown crust in appearance. A handful of petals deeper into the basket had bare onion showing, or a blended together batter, but overall, they looked meaty and robust.

Taste: 1.5/5 

In a perfect metaphor for the Chili's experience, and many of the dominant chain restaurants around the nation, the strong appearance of the onion petals served only to mask the lifeless chunks of onion hiding within a bland batter. Though the petals are thick, they lack onion juice. Though the batter is brown and all encompassing, its thickness masks a moist and bland interior. Though greasy, there's no hint of onion taste, leaving me to marvel in horror at its source.

The bits of Chili's proprietary seasoning blend were only sprinkled on the top few petals, and served to add little more than a bare hint of flavor, tricking me for a brief moment into thinking there was flavor.

The sauce is the closest thing to a highlight in this dish. Rather than the standard sides of Southwestern sauce or ranch, the Blossom sauce has a strong taste of horseradish. Unfortunately, as is always the case with bland onion rings and related products, the petals serve as nothing more than a vehicle to shovel the sauce into my mouth, eschewing even further the concept of nutritional value or satisfaction.

Texture: 1/5

Though my foray into the world of onion rings has taken a brief leave of absence throughout the bulk of 2019, the issues have not changed. Slippage, my mortal foe, has been hiding deep in the weeds, waiting for my eventual return to strike. And strike it did, with a vengeance. On nearly every bite of every petal I ate, the onions squeezed out from the batter like a greasy, oversized sunflower seed, leaving an unappealing shell in its wake.

The onion interior is too big, and the batter, though thick, can't seem to contain it. There's hardly a hint of a crisp in the batter, and the mouthfeel is more like an onion cake, sweetened with sawdust and bound with earwig honey.

Value: 1.5/5

For my metal box of onion petals, I paid $6.99. For the sheer quantity of onion flesh, lessened substantially by the pivot of a petal rather than a ring shape, it's hideously overpriced. In every possible sense, these Awesome Blossom Petals are a perfect metaphor for Chili's. Through strong in appearance and presentation, they are bland, tasteless, overpriced, and poorly executed. The closest they approach flavor is through the dipping sauce, which serves only to mask the deficiencies of every other part of the dish.

Total: 8/20

Grand Coney (Grand Rapids, MI)

A familiar pattern has emerged in my life, in the just-over-two years I've been in the full-time work force. Essentially, the last four months of the year are by far the busiest for me, and it only accelerates as the year slips by. Sometimes, it bleeds into January. 

Not coincidentally, I haven't published a review since October. 

I thank you, dear reader, for you patience. Without further ado, here is a review of onion rings from Grand Coney in Grand Rapids, Michigan. 

Presentation and Appearance: (3/5)

My eyes are immediately drawn to the unique style of dish that the onion rings arrive in. They are a cut above the plain white plate, and of an entirely different character than the plastic baskets lined with a modicum of greasy waxed paper. It is oblong and mysterious, not unlike an albino, open-faced banana peel.

Within this peel, however, one finds a reasonable portion of crispy onion rings, rather than the pale and smooth flesh of a banana. The onion rings seem fairly consistently breaded, almost to a fault, as it suggests either a ruthlessly efficient mass production in a kitchen (which, I admit, is possible), or the far more likely fruit of a frozen bag.

A ramekin of zesty sauce was delicately balanced within the oblong dish, striking me more as a bold artistic statement on the fragility of civilization than an optimal placement for sauce.

Taste: (3.5/5)

My initial suspicion of frozen rings seem to have hit a snag, as the onion rings ooze with a robust taste of butter and grease, coming from the core of a well-cooked onion. While possible in frozen rings, it is exceedingly rare. The batter is well seasoned, and is cooked to a delicate crisp without being overdone.

Though the zesty sauce was precarious, it delivered a solid complement to the flavors of the onion ring. All told, I have no major complaints about the taste, but it was missing a little bit of the "wow" factor necessary to take it to the next level.

Texture: (4/5)

Typically, the taste and texture of an onion ring are intimately related, and understanding one provides crucial hints to the other. In this case, the maxim holds true. With a good volume of onion-derived grease pouring out in each bite, I could safely determine (and confirm with subsequent bites) that the onions were well cooked. That is to say, not too overdone as to be mushy, and not so underdone as to be raw.

Likewise, the batter hits the right notes between a burnt husk and a soft circle of raw better. There is some slippage, but not much. As with taste, the texture didn't quite hit all the right notes, but it was singing the right song.

Value: (3/5)

Though the onion rings are solid in both taste and texture, the quantity leaves a bit to be desired for the price. At $5 for the mystery dish mounded with onion rings, they don't quite manage to rise to perfection, but it's a good bite at a good price.

Total: 13.5/20

Meet the Local Guide who’s the king of onion rings on Google Maps (October 25, 2018)

On October 25, 2018, I was interviewed by the Google Local Guides team on my robust set of onion ring reviews. You can read the whole interview here, and it is reproduced below.

I should note they cut the numerous mentions of Sola Cepa in the published interview, but alas.

Scroll through Tyler Groenendal’s profile on Google Maps and you’ll immediately notice one thing: the guy is really, really passionate about onion rings. He’s written 47 detailed reviews about them at places across the U.S. With his “Onion Ring Standard,” Tyler has definitely found a way to make his reviews stand out—and just in time for National Greasy Foods Day!

To celebrate this fun U.S. holiday, we spoke with Tyler to learn more about what it’s like to be an expert onion ring reviewer, his tongue-in-cheek approach to food reviews and his tips on what makes a food review great.

You seem very passionate about onion rings! Can you share more about that?

My interest in onion rings began in college, when I started to notice a correlation. Restaurants that produced good onion rings tended to be good at making other sorts of food. Gradually, this developed into a system of thought, one that I call the “Onion Ring Standard.” The theory goes that onion rings are simple, and easy to cheap out on—either in quality of ingredients or prep time—and still be passable, from the perspective of most people. However, if a restaurant goes to the trouble of hand-making onion rings, in a quality way with quality ingredients, it's indicative as to the effort they put into the rest of the menu.                                                     

What inspired you to start writing reviews on Google Maps?

Google Maps provided the largest immediate platform where my reviews of onion rings could impact and inform the most people.

What information do you think is important to include in your reviews of onion rings?

I review based on four broad categories.

Presentation and appearance — takes into account the plating, the quality of the batter, the color, and so on.

Taste — looks at the overall taste of the onion itself, the breading or batter and any accompanying dipping sauce.

Texture — looks at the overall mouthfeel, the crunchiness of the batter, the mushiness of the onions and so on. This category also accounts for overall structural integrity.

Value—Given the quality and quantity of the onion rings, and the price I paid for them, does it match up to be a good value?


Finally, a picture of the onion rings, as they look when they arrive, plated, at my table, is essential.

What do you look for in the perfect onion ring?

Generally speaking, though not exclusively, a perfect onion ring will consist of a thickly cut onion (both tall and wide), a consistent beer battering or more traditional breading, with both the onion and batter fried to an optimal texture and color. That is, they aren't overdone, the onions aren't mushy or too raw, the batter is cooked through, but not burned and the parts aren't separable. Separability of parts is the biggest plague in the world of onion rings today.

What do great onion rings tell you about the restaurant you ordered them from?

Essentially, great onion rings tell me that the restaurant puts time and care into even the most mundane dishes. I view onion rings as a proxy for the quality of any given restaurant.

What do you hope people learn or feel when they see your reviews and photos on Google Maps?

First and foremost, I hope that people learn about what (in my opinion, at least) constitutes a good onion ring, and whether or not the onion rings at these particular restaurants correspond to that. The onion ring reviews are written in a unique tone I've developed over the past two years. It's simultaneously tongue-in-cheek and completely serious. The "joke," if there is one, is that I treat this with the utmost care and precision. The hyperbolic nature of the language of the reviews plays into that. Fundamentally, I want people to feel entertained and enlightened at the same time.

What information do you wish more people included in their reviews?

I wish more people included the value. It's not enough for me to just know the food was "good" or "alright.” How did it match up to what you paid for it?

Do you have any tips for writing more helpful reviews?

Just like in business, where the ultimate decider is the consumer, so too with reviews. What does your audience want? This will vary wildly from venue, to type of location and even geographic location. Don't be afraid to be in-depth. I think a lot of people are content to slam a few sentences down and call it a day. If you write something quality, even if it's long, they WILL read it.

Anything else you'd like to add?

Only an appeal to all the restaurants of the world, or at least those that make onion rings. There are two great scourges to this particular cuisine, among many. The first, which I've dubbed "slippage," occurs when a loose piece of onion slides out of the breading or batter, leading to a pile of greasy batter in one hand, and a mushed up onion on my plate. The second, similarly dubbed "shedding," is the reverse, wherein the onion remains solid, but the breading or batter chips off, is rarer, though equally negative.

Beyond that, I think that too many restaurants use dipping sauce as a crutch. If you have sub-par onion rings with a pretty good ranch or zesty sauce, ultimately, the sauce merely serves to mask the (lack of) flavor in the onion rings. In extreme cases, the onion rings serve as little more than a vehicle for a delicious sauce.