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The portions are huge at the Cheesecake Factory, but the taste isn't always worth the wait.
By CHRIS SHERMAN
© St. Petersburg Times, published December 6, 2001
TAMPA -- So you win the Cy Young at 19 and pitch a no-hitter at 31? You still wait in line for lunch at the 49th branch of the Cheesecake Factory.
Even if you get there at 11:45 a.m., when the wait is only 15 to 30 minutes. But most of the folks in the waiting room, including Dwight Gooden, don't mind. There are cell calls to make, people to watch and a menu to peruse. And what a menu: 20-some glossy pages (two just for "specialties") plus full-color ads for interior decorators, dress shops, even rival malls.
When the pager finally vibrates, don't get excited: you'll remain in purgatory for another five minutes of procedures that would embarrass a motor vehicles agency. You surrender the pager to a host; she hands it off to someone who marks your table on a computer screen and writes your name and table number on a chit; this waits in a rack until a seater plucks it out, calls you and takes you, at last, to your table.
Why the wait? Hundreds of others are ahead of you -- from Zephyrhills seniors in plaid to Countryside juniors in black and buff, families, working lunchers and slick late-nighters.
The only advertising Cheesecake has had has been word of mouth, which has made it the most eagerly awaited restaurant here in years.
There can be good eating here -- popcorn shrimp are great balls of seafood, exploding with flavor, and the fire-roasted artichokes are done as well as in Italy -- but they're not worth my waiting for.
The line itself is the clue. Other places from Bonefish to Cody's pride themselves on waits, and the restaurant as theme park is a staple on our menu, but Cheesecake has achieved the ultimate goal: the restaurant as Disneyland.
The place looks and feels like a ride in Adventureland or a backdrop from Aladdin or Hercules, a cartoon fantasy palace with chubby columns and a paint job by airbrush. The staff is squeaky clean and bright with good cheer and good looks; I saw just one sourpuss who wouldn't make it at Disney.
Food, too is a merry-go-round of choices, from every cooking tradition and trend known to Bennigan's (especially those that can be made with chicken). It's Italian, Mexican, Cajun and Jamaican. There are Thai lettuce wraps, Vietnamese spring rolls, salads, silly martinis, espresso drinks and American comfort (steaks, meatloaf and burgers, even sliders). Then there's the sheer indulgence that gave Cheesecake its name and initial claim to fame. Only thing missing is good bread.
Amusement park portions and fun rule here in taste and presentation, so prepare for embarrassment (or delight) when your food arrives. Only pizza lacked wow when it arrived; foot-tall stacks of onion rings don't.
Food quality, however, was dicier. Granted, three trips doesn't get you a quarter of a way through the menu. But most dishes were brighter in appearance than flavor.
Fish tacos, a fun modern trick, tasted dull (my server didn't know if it was salmon or white fish), but black beans on the side had fire and the guacamole was fresh and smooth. For a better taste of California, stick to sweet tamale cakes: not cakes per se, but cornmeal with tomatoes, guac, loads of cream cheese and a hot salsa verde.
In a salad of herb-crusted salmon, the greens were crisp, peppery and abundant, the salmon cold, overcooked and "crusted" with tasteless paste that seemed mostly parsley.
Pastas are a staple here, from classic hay and straw to Asian and Creole variations. Bistro shrimp pasta smartly tosses fresh mushrooms, tomato and arugula, but breaded shrimp and garlic cream sauce make it too rich.
Evelyn's pasta of olives, peppers, sun-dried tomato and eggplant would be better off without broccoli florets, but it's a fair concession to the diet crowd. This kitchen does well by little Japanese eggplants in a sandwich as well.
My best entree, crispy spicy beef, a name I rarely trust, came from the Asian side and was both. The beef had been flash-fried with a crisp batter (maybe tempura or panko) that held its crunch in a thick gravy made with more pepper than sugar. Now that was fun.
The grand finale may be too much. Given the size of most plates here, finishing even one course may not leave room for dessert. So if you spend your waiting time ogling the cheesecake, minimize the rest of your meal. Smartest diner I saw came in and went straight for dessert, a mud pie of thick chocolate, stacked with ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate chips and nuts; the only sign of restraint was that there was a single maraschino cherry. It's still not to be consumed in one sitting, which may be why there are almost as many CF bags as Build-A-Bear boxes around International Plaza.
Picking through the dessert wonderland, I found the namesake cheesecake and tried plain -- a disappointment, rather gelatinous, not cheesy and New York enough for me. A surprise alternative was the fresh banana cream cheesecake, which lightened the cheesecake and infused it with the taste and texture of that underappreciated fruit.
Apple crisp and apple dumpling were soggy disappointments. Go for strawberry shortcake, with a biscuity shortcake, or straight to any of the chocolate cakes, and order extra forks.
Logistics were a mess on my first visit. A trendy mojito from the bar took 40 minutes. Appetizers and entrees took almost an hour and arrived almost together, making me doubt the chain's vaunted training and efficiency.
Three weeks later the kinks were gone; my servers were friendly, flexible and quick on their feet yet happy to let us order and eat in no hurry. Staff in the kitchen, where you could hear managers cheering "Let's go, Tampa," was up to speed and keeping a dozen plates spinning.
It's quite a performance. If you haven't been to a modern chain restaurant in awhile, join the crowd here. As usual, I was waiting for something more.
Bay Street, International Plaza
2233 West Shore Blvd.
Tampa
(813) 353-4200
Hours: 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Monday-Thursday; 11 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. Friday, Saturday; 10 a.m. to 11 p.m. Sunday
Reservations: No
Credit cards: Most
Details: Full bar, nonsmoking section, good wheelchair access, Sunday brunch, takeout.
Prices: $7.95 to $24.95.