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