A Tale of Two Restaurants: The Onion Ring Standard Exemplified

 Long-time readers should be familiar with my maxim of the Onion Ring Standard. It's one of the first things I wrote when starting on this grand journey, and it's the guiding philosophy for why I do this. In short, you can judge the quality of a restaurant by the quality of the onion rings they make, serving as a proxy for any number of things. 

In the past four years, I haven't seen it fail. 

On my recent whistlestop tour of Mackinac Island to celebrate my first anniversary with The Wife, I took the opportunity to sample the island's onion rings. In addition to posting my reviews here on Sola Cepa, I also post a somewhat truncated version on Google Maps. 

Though it is rare, restaurant owners and/or staff have occasionally replied to these reviews. Two of the eateries I reviewed on Mackinac Island, Cannonball Inn & Catering and Ice House BBQ, happened to do so. The responses to these reviews, in addition to the onion rings themselves, help to illustrate the strength and utility of the Onion Ring Standard. I'll address them in turn. 

Cannonball Inn & Catering was, simply put, awful. The onion rings were clearly frozen, poorly and inconsistently prepared, completely tasteless, and with a texture so abominable that I wasn't sure it counted as food. I go into more depth in the review, linked above, but you get the idea. They were bad. Ergo, following the Onion Ring Standard, the values could be easily translated to the restaurant itself. 

That is, Cannonball Inn & Catering as a whole probably used mostly frozen ingredients, put no time, effort, or care into preparing it, and took advantage of being the only restaurant on the entire north side of Mackinac Island to serve garbage. 

I think the response from the owner, and the attitude it represents, helps explain why. Here's what they said on Google Maps (see screenshot below): "Sorry you didn't enjoy, after reading your novel I have come to the conclusion that you need psychiatric help. Enjoy your time on the island."

A similar response awaited me on a Facebook review (see screenshot below): "Once again I will reiterate that after reading your 5 chapter Novel about the onion rings I think you need help."

Just as the onion rings revealed that Cannonball Inn was cheap, tasteless, and poorly prepared, the review responses reveal a lot about the restaurant owners and management. In response to a negative review, their first instincts were to:

1. Insult the customer;
2. Imply someone who doesn't like their food needs psychiatric help;
3. Demonstrate that they don't know what a novel is, since they think 600 words constitutes a "5 chapter novel;"
4. Double-down when presented with the opportunity to do so. 

That response tells me a few things. First, they care so little about the food that they're baffled when somebody reviews it in earnest. Second, their management style eschews even the appearance of introspection, instead lashing out in anger when someone doesn't like it. Lastly, they have an enormous amount of arrogance and no humility. 

In a sense, the response helps further explain just why the onion rings were so terrible. 

Ice House BBQ, on the other hand, was a pleasant change of pace. The onion rings were clearly hand breaded (with Panko) and hand-cut, thoughtfully prepared, and pleasantly seasoned. Served with a house-made unique dipping sauce, the onion rings said loud and clear that this is a restaurant that cares enough to make things by hand, to pay attention when they prepare things, and to put actual thought into their menu and recipes. 

Like with Cannonball, the owner's response helps explain why (see screenshot below): "5-stars for this review! Your entertaining and educational recount of Ice House BBQ onion ring experience kept us on the edge of our seats 'til the very end. Thank you for sharing your unbiased expertise as well as any exceptional talent for storytelling." 

Since I know someone is probably thinking it, I'm not just singling out this review for their flattery of my prowess. Instead, I want to emphasize how this reinforces the onion ring quality of Ice House BBQ. 

When encountered with a positive and passionate review, they responded in kind. Rather than a simple "Thanks!" or "Glad you enjoyed!", they took the time and forethought to point our particulars from the review, and (at least on the surface) showed a genuine appreciation for my taking the time to earnestly review their food. 

That tells me a few things, like:

1. Ownership and management sincerely care about putting out quality food;
2. They pay attention to their reviews enough to respond within a day or so of my posting it, meaning they're open to feedback and want to continually improve; 
3. They have a good enough understanding of hospitality and customer service to care about how they respond to even the most casual reviews, and how that might come across to anyone reading their Google Maps page;

As with Cannonball, the response of Ice House BBQ helps to explain why the onion rings were good. They were made by people who care, take pride in their work, and want to genuinely provide a good experience to their customers. 

It's a tale of two onion rings. If you were biking across Mackinac Island, and all you knew was the response to my reviews, which place would you go to? Which place would you think has better onion rings? 

I know my pick. 

Sola Cepa. 

Pink Pony (Mackinac Island, Michigan)

This marks the fifth and final entry in the one-year anniversary onion ring extravaganza on Mackinac Island. The Wife and I stayed at the Chippewa Hotel, on recommendation from from Sola Cepa superfans (you know who you are). Though conveniently located and well appointed, the one downside was fighting through literal throngs of people who wanted to eat at the Pink Pony (located on the first floor) any time we wanted to go in or out of the hotel. 

The smart move, which is what we did, is just to wait until the last ferry leaves Mackinac Island and then go when there was no line or wait. 

Here is a review of onion rings from Pink Pony on Mackinac Island. 

Presentation and Appearance: 4/5

Purpose-built onion ring delivery mechanisms are rare, but a delight to see. The sleek stainless steel container has a bit too much empty space at the bottom, but the towering collection of onion rings rising to the heavens makes for an impressive sight - with the curved rod zigzagging up for about a foot. I'm more impressed by the specialized space in the plating for the two dipping sauces - an Asian sriracha sauce and a habanero honey BBQ sauce. 

Though billed as "Gourmet Onion Rings," they strike me as a fairly standard, as thick-cut onion rings go. Panko breaded, which seems to be a theme on the island, they are well coated, though with patchy bits throughout. They have a reasonably good consistency in size, and the color is a bit of a dull golden brown. 

In short, the onion rings themselves are good, if nothing special, but the plating demonstrates great care of, and appreciation for, this noble food. 

Taste: 4.5/5

The onion taste is pronounced and strong here. They are juicy, but not too greasy. The flavor is bold, but not overpowering. Likewise, the Panko breading is well salted and seasoned, something that I've found is rare for most breaded onion rings. Though "gourmet" might be a stretch, they are obviously hand-breaded, well-prepared, and cohesive. 

Both of the dipping sauces intrigued me, as neither fit the standard dipping fare for onion rings. The Asian Sriracha sauce was pleasantly spicy, and gave new depth to the onion rings when dipped. The habanero honey BBQ sauce, however, was the standout star.  Here, the habanero honey BBQ sauce brings some of the most well-rounded flavors I've encountered in a dipping sauce. The BBQ base serves as fertile ground for the sweet honey to ebb and flow, with bits and hits of the spicy habanero swirling among them all. 

My other culinary passion, beyond onion rings, is spicy food, and rarely have I seen the two meet. Here, with both sauces giving complementary spicy flavors, I may have found a new dimension of sweet lady Allium that I've never seen before. 

Texture: 3/5

With onion rings, there's a delicate balancing act with the taste and texture of the onion. To a certain point, the more the onion is fried, the more juices are released, and the more pronounced the onion flavor. There's a risk, however, of going too far, and letting the onion dissolve into  a watery vaguely-onion-tasting gruel. 

These onion rings don't go quite that far, but they did sacrifice some stability and texture of the onion in exchange for the strong onion flavor. They are wet, juicy, and just a little overdone. Consequently, slippage is a major issue, an almost inevitable side effect of onions cooked even slightly longer than optimal. The Panko breading is crunchy and oddly smooth, with enough give to bend slightly. Usually, flexible breading mediates the scourge of slippage, but not so here. 

Value: 4.5/5

At a price tag of $12 for 8 large rings, these would be outrageous were it not for the standard Mackinac Island surcharge. The menu bills it as "enough for two," which may be true, given the size, though it's a bit of a stretch. The hand-breaded rings, the customized presentation, and two delicious house made sauces make this a strong bang for your buck, especially on an island as devoid of good onion rings as Mackinac is. 

Total: 16/20

Ice House BBQ (Mackinac Island, Michigan)

 Welcome to the fourth entry in the Mackinac Island onion ring review extravaganza. Prior to this anniversary trip, I hadn't been to the island since I was a child on our annual family trips. As such, there were a lot of things I didn't anticipate, including the benefits of being on an island with no motor vehicles while bar hopping, the staggering beauty of a night sky with almost no light pollution while sitting on a rocky beach, and the horrible, horrible wait times. 

Some of this is, no doubt, a direct result of one of Governor Gretchen Whitmer's many petty executive orders limiting restaurant capacity, though more could be attributed to it being a nice weekend in August. In any case, by the time we made our way to Ice House BBQ, we were literally unable to get a table before they closed. Thankfully, they had an operating takeout window (surrounded by oddly unused seating) so I could check another step in the onion ring checklist off. 

Here is a review of onion rings from Ice House BBQ. 

Presentation and Appearance: 3.5/5

As could be reasonably expected from any takeout, the presentation isn't exactly wowing. Though a combination of draconian executive orders limiting restaurant capacity, the usual busy nature of Mackinac Island, and my own inability to plan ahead with a reservation makes this somewhat explainable. The rings are thrown together haphazardly in a black takeout container, a to-go cup of the dipping sauce balanced betwixt. 

The rings themselves are pretty varied in size (though perhaps a bit too small to fit the advertised "colossal" size) and very clearly hand breaded with what looks to be Panko. Despite the hand-breading, they're actually fairly well covered and consistent, though the coating is not perfect. The color is a beautiful and almost archetypal golden brown, though there are some darkened bits around the edges. 

I also ate this sitting on a rapidly cooling stone bench in Marquette Park but, again, that's on me. 

Taste: 4.5/5

I've often found that breading tends to have a weaker flavor than batter, as a general rule. That said, this breading packs a pretty good taste, with happy mediums of both salt and grease shimmering across and throughout. The onions, though on the small side, are cooked well - just long and hot enough to release the liquid gold that is the onion juices without letting the onion disintegrate. 

The superstar of this dish, however, is the cinnamon-chipotle dipping sauce. I'm increasingly jaded when it comes to onion ring dipping sauce - with most restaurants cycling through a familiar menagerie of ranch, "southwest" or "zesty" sauce, and the occasional disgusting spurt of ketchup. This dipping sauce, contrasting the pedestrian and familiar, is literally mind blowing and game changing. 

It has flavors I have never even fathomed going with onion rings - an intoxicating mayo-based blend of spicy, sweet, and creamy. It soothes and mildly scorches the tongue in tandem, with an invigorating mixture. It even accomplishes the rare task of perfectly complementing, and not overpowering in any way, the flavors of the breading and the onion. This sauce was purpose built for these onion rings in some fantastic mixture of art, science, and divine inspiration. 

Texture: 4/5

The Panko breading holds up well and maintains a respectable thickness throughout, without being too crunchy. One advantage of breadcrumbs over batter is the tendency for the breading to hold together under tooth-based assault, and this tends to be the case. Indeed, even as I cracked the rings to fit into the diminishing cinnamon-chipotle sauce container, they held firm. Though the onions seemed to be on the smaller side, they were softened just enough, thick, and meatier than I first thought. 

For its merits, there was a not-insignificant amount of slippage for the amount of rings represented. My wife, against my protest, attributed this to "user error" on my part. The slippage incidence was much less than I'd expect from a breaded ring, a point in favor of preparation and execution. 

Value: 4/5

Value is a tricky thing to determine on Mackinac Island. Were these onion rings good? Yes. Were they worth a whopping $15? In some respects, perhaps. Prices are naturally higher on Mackinac, hitting a trifecta of a secluded island, with heavy tourism, and all transportation by horse, and I'd expect to pay half to two-thirds of the amount for comparable rings on the mainland. 

However, after suffering through the frozen garbage that passes for onion rings on most of Mackinac, these were a treat and a delight. 

Total: 16/20

Cannonball Inn & Catering (Mackinac Island, Michigan)

Welcome to the third entry in the Sola Cepa one-year anniversary Mackinac Island onion ring extravaganza. Mackinac Island, though relatively small, is mostly unsettled parkland. Most of the actual things (hotels, houses, restaurants, the docks, etc.) are concentrated in the town on the south end of the island. As The Wife and I biked around the island one sunny Saturday (a necessary activity on any trip to Mackinac), I plotted out a stop at the only place to eat while circumnavigating the island. 

Situated about halfway around the island, the place is a natural stop. I should have kept pedaling. 

Here is a review of onion rings from Cannonball Inn & Catering on Mackinac Island. 

Presentation and Appearance: (3/5)

In a first (so far) for the island, these onion rings are *not* the exact same frozen mishmash from Brew City. They are served in a brown patterned cardboard container - a slight cut above from plain coloration - though without the near-ubiquitous wax paper beneath. They are served in a large pile bulging out from the container. 

Though I suspect the onion rings may still be frozen, they're enough variation in the batter to make me doubt it - as cracks and crevices are mottled throughout the rings. The rings are also inconsistently sized - and varying in color from a pale golden brown to a darkened copper. At first glance, this indicates an inconsistent fry time - possibly two separate batches combined. All told, they look fairly inoffensive. 

Taste: (0/5)

Beyond a thin veneer of grease, these onion rings had literally no flavor whatsoever. There was no seasoning, a completely bland batter, and even the onions tasted like a mushy, flavorless paste - the type of bland sludge I imagine they would serve on an interstellar voyage in a dystopian future. The best comparison I can make for the taste of these onion rings is a particularly bland variety of cardboard, surrounding a ring of moistened paper. 

Even after biking for a few miles, and having worked up something of an appetite in the process, these onion rings did absolutely nothing for me. They provided no flavor, no sustenance, and no joy. I could feel anger building as I tried to shovel them down before wisely abandoning the prospect - though remained intrigued by a food that offered less flavor than a particularly white piece of iceberg lettuce. For the first time in my entire time writing review of onion rings, I was literally unable to finish eating them.

Texture: (0.5/5)

In another feat of onion ring engineering, these onion rings had a texture that was simultaneously overcooked and cold. The batter was much too crunchy, and it felt more like gnawing through a hunk of wood than biting into an onion ring. Though the coloration would suggest not every onion ring would be overcooked, they were. They were also dry, sans the previously mentioned veneer of grease. 

I suspect that the overcooking was what led to the complete removal of any sense of flavor from the onion, though there was a hint of texture remaining. Though heated to within an inch of its existence, the onion interior was bizarrely cold. Given the wait time, I had assumed these were made to order, but the only possible explanation I can have for them being freezing and overcooked simultaneously is that they had waited in a bin somewhere for an hour or two before I arrived. 

Value: (2.5/5)

Despite the complete absence of flavor and the almost inedible texture, both which I suspect were brought about by an excessive cook time, I still think these onion rings are a pretty good value. The whole basket was $4.50, an astronomically low price for Mackinac Island - probably equivalent to a $2 thing of frozen, poorly prepared onion rings on the mainland. My high evaluation of the value no doubt partially stems from the absurd prices for other frozen rings back in town. 

That said, they were close to inedible, I couldn't bring myself to finish them, and they are a memory best buried. 

Total: (6/20)

UPDATE: I received the following notice from the owner in response to this review (posted on Google Maps): "Sorry you didn't enjoy, after reading your novel I have come to the conclusion that you need psychiatric help. Enjoy your time on the island."

Great Turtle Brewery & Distillery (Mackinac Island, Michigan)

Welcome to the second entry in the Sola Cepa one-year anniversary Mackinac Island onion ring extravaganza. The Wife, who I often say has the patience of a saint to put up with my fervent quest for onion ring glory literally anytime we travel anywhere, and I made a quick hop from the Yankee Rebel Tavern to our next destination, led by me staring at the Google Maps entry for "onion rings Mackinac Island" and wandering up and down the three or so streets that make up downtown Mackinac. 

Disclaimer: The Wife wanted me to note that her cocktail flight (pictured behind the onion rings) was very, very good. 

While cleansing my palate from the mediocrity of Yankee Rebel Tavern with a beer, I set in to continue the quest. Here is a review of onion rings from Great Turtle Brewery and Distillery. 

Presentation and Appearance: (1.5/5)

Deja Vu, in the words of the great British poets Dave Murray and Steve Harris (better known as one of the guitarists and the bassist of Iron Maiden, respectively), is when "you know this has happened before," among other things. Ladies and gentlemen, in what is likely a first in my many years of reviewing onion rings, I am beyond a shadow of a doubt confident that these onion rings are the EXACT same frozen onion rings that I had eaten not an hour before. 

That's right, the infamous "Brew City's beer battered best," as the menu at Yankee Rebel Tavern had described them, were on my plate yet again. Only this time, they were even worse. Served in a tangled mass of onion-kind on a plain white plate, mashed together haphazardly and with the numerous cracks and scars in the batter to prove it, these onion rings were somehow far worse despite likely coming from the same factory as the last. 

The only slim notes in its favor are are relatively consistent coloring, though marred by overdone and blackened bits of flavorless onion sludge, and the heaping nature of the mound on the plate.

Taste: (0.5/5)

As noted previously, when using frozen onion rings, the only way to make any kind of improvement in either taste or texture is in the execution. These onion rings are a dramatic failure in execution, akin to how the Romans felt at the Battle of Cannae. The cracked batter is overdone, leeching what little flavor there would have been in the previously described homeopathic and measly blend of "paprika, onion powder, salt, sugar, and 'spices'." Even the bare hints of salt and grease that are present barely manage to make an impression. 

Likewise, the onion taste is weak - even weaker than the onion La Croix of Yankee Rebel. I suspect that the combination of badly overdone rings and cracks in the batter led to the onion juices escaping their miserable cage for a chance at freedom, dashed hopelessly in the fryer. The only positive points I could possibly muster is that I managed to finish them, no doubt aided by the beer. 

Texture: (1/5)

Even among bad onion rings, I find some solace in the experimental and the novel. Even if taste and texture aren't quite on track, I truly enjoy the experimentation. At least, I thought I did, until now. The texture of these onion rings have managed to delve into entirely unexplored horrors. 

Simply put, they were oddly sticky, as though the onion juice melted through the overdone batter and merged into a paste from hell. As a result, the batter was extremely rigid, almost resembling a vaguely onion tasting candy devised by someone who hates flavor. They crunched, but not in a good way. Even though they're not truly burnt, they feel like it. The specks of onion hidden in the crevasse of batter were moderately juicy, albeit flavorless, and was the sole saving textural grace. 

Value: (1/5)

This is probably the most scientific review I've ever done, as I had a direct and immediate comparison with the same brand of frozen onion rings at a restaurant a block away. For a plate of significantly worse onion rings (though somewhat larger in quantity), I paid the tidy sum of $10. Even for the already inflated prices of Mackinac Island, this is a ripoff - especially since the place a couple hundred feet away cost $2 fewer.

If they had been executed even remotely well, there might be a hint more value. Unfortunately, these are a complete waste of time, and among the worst onion rings I've ever had the displeasure to eat. 

Total: 4/20

Yankee Rebel Tavern (Mackinac Island, Michigan)

 At this point, I'm tempted to dispense with eloquence. Yes, I stopped posting reviews for a while. Things were happening. For a time, anything other than takeout was banned in the state of Michigan. Currently, eating in a restaurant is legal - provided that it doesn't receive more than 70% of its gross receipts from alcohol sales. Yes, really. According to the state of Michigan, COVID-19 is only transmissible in an establishment with significant alcohol sales. 

As what little remains of the classical liberal order (freedom of speech, commerce, private property) is under increasing assault from all sides, I'm forced to wonder: how long until there are no more onion rings? They are, as I have opined before, a beautiful example of spontaneous order, and the sheer lack of nutrition is a telling sign on the insane wealth we enjoy in the world today. 

With that in mind, my one-year anniversary trip to Mackinac Island with The Wife prioritized locating and consuming a wildly unhealthy amount of onion rings. Also fudge. Also beer. 

Anyway, here's a review of onion rings from Yankee Rebel Tavern on Mackinac Island. 

Presentation and Appearance: (3/5)

I think I've become more jaded over time. The black plastic basket, which may have once aroused some bare excitement for not being red, seems sufficient, if banal. Indeed, even the fake newsprint (which may or may not be identical to all the other fake newsprint waxpaper I've seen onion rings plated on it) doesn't excite me. In its defense, it's better than nothing.

Color-wise, the onion rings are a solid golden brown, with a consistent shade all around. There are a handful of severely cracked rings, but they're mostly solid. The uniformity of the breading means one thing - frozen and machine made. Indeed, per the menu, these are "Brew City's beer battered best!," best being a dubious term indeed. 

Taste: (1.5/5) 

As is par for the course for any frozen onion ring, the batter is largely unseasoned and tasteless. I will give Yankee Rebel Tavern props for identifying the make of onion rings, so I can identify the ingredients list. Allegedly, these contain paprika (but just for color), onion powder, salt, sugar, and "spices." Perhaps Brew City subscribes to the as-of-yet unheard of homeopathic theory of seasoning, where they put minute portions of each spice into the onion ring in the hope that the flavors are mystically amplified. 

At best, I can taste a hint of salt in the batter, lightly brushed with a delicate touch of grease. The onions are not that much better.  What passes for onion juice is more like the onion flavor of La Croix - thin, watery, and largely flavorless. The onions are probably too thin, albeit cooked as well as they could be, to yield anything significant. 

Texture: (3.5/5)

While there's little that frozen onion rings can do to improve their taste, texture is largely a result of preparation. In this case, they're prepared about as well as they can be, as the batter is smooth and with a fine crunch. That is, they are neither over- nor under-cooked, as evidenced by the lack of slippage and the connectivity of the onion and the batter. 

The only mark against texture is the onions are just a bit too soft, perhaps weakening in structural integrity as they leak out their onion water onto my fake newspaper. This is probably the first time I've ever described an onion ring as "wet," but I honestly don't know what other word to use. It's like they made onion water, froze it, and let it thaw inside of the batter. I don't actually know how they make frozen food, but that sounds about right to me. 

Value: (2/5) 

On Mackinac Island, money loses much of its meaning. Given that everything has to be shipped to the island on a ferry or an airplane and then transported by horse and buggy (yes, really) to its final destination, and the fact that it's a hotbed of tourism, I'm willing to be somewhat more generous with gauging value than I usually am. 

That said, $8 for a bowl of mid-sized platter of mediocre onion rings is pretty steep. They were as well made as they could be, and they were served piping hot, but they left me more disappointed than anything else. 

Total: 10/20