Wednesday, 28 August 2013

Kenny Rogers Roasters (by G)

In the heart of China Town, Kuala Lumpur, I see it... the holy grail of fast food chains... a Kenny Rogers Roasters restaurant.  Just as the light is fading and the street vendors are coming out to ply their delicious trade I throw them a symbolic 'fuck you' and head into the kitchen of the bearded warbler.  When will I ever get the chance to eat at a restaurant chain devised by Kenneth Ray "Kenny" Rogers again?

There are a surprising number of people in there - on second glance it seems half the patrons are actually staff being force(?) fed on the gamble's dime. The other half are people availing themselves of the frew WiFi. There is one tall, bemused, American looking character with a large grey moustache who appears to be a genuine customer.

The first thing I notice when reviewing the menu is that there is no alcohol - then I remember Country Ken is a life long abstainer. The second thing I notice is that the concept appears to be in favour of healthy eating. I had been looking forward to a fatty, glistening hunk of roasted pork and I was to be disappointed - chicken only. 'Less Fat... Less Salt... Less Calories' is the motto, I instantly knew I would hate it here.  Finally I decide on Kenny's Red Hot Meal - I had meant to get into the spirit and order a 'Kenny's Red Hot Meal' but baulked at the last minute and just ordered a 'Red Hot Meal'.

From what I can tell, all meals come with a muffin. I thought it would be a savoury muffin (Kenwood had devised a dessert menu after all) but no, there are 6 sweet flavours to choose from - I go with 'zesty orange'.

Alarmingly the food comes approximately 10 seconds after I order it - never a good sign.  The beans are unbearably sweet... well played Mr Rogers, you never said '... less sugar...'.  I was anxious about the mashed potatoes already given that fat, salt and calories are essential for good mashed potatoes. My fears are confirmed. I'm not sure what the pool of stuff on top of the potatoes is but the combination is something like eating mashed glue stick with wallpaper glue gravy.

The chicken is okay, not as good as virtually any other roasted chicken (salt is flavour). It is a bit dry though, I splash gravy over my shirt and pants trying to pry it off the bone and am unwilling to use the napkin to wipe it off because I want it as a memento (the napkin, not the gravy).

The coleslaw is by far the best thing on the plate - almost identical to the kind you get at a popular supermarket chain (which, incidentally, I swore I would never, ever get again no matter how lazy I was).

The muffin was terrible, tough on the outside, dense and unpleasantly chewy on the inside. The iced lemon tea was okay, could have used more lemon.

After I paid I sidled up to the counter to get what I thought was a takeaway menu but it turned out to be a paper bag for leftovers.  A waitress gives me a very strange look when I pocket it. 'As a souvenir'. I whisper to her.

Outside I look around and see a massive Nando's across the street, a more modest KFC a short distance away, numerous Indian places doing tandoori chicken and a lot of Malay places doing their own delicious versions of chicken.  A quote from Seinfeld's Kramer comes to mind: 'Roger's can't sell chicken around here, we got chicken places on every block'.


* I wanted to get Biggs a gift voucher but was told they didn't sell them at the restaurant. I didn't catch where they do sell them.
** Big K is big into Malaysian culture - he sells a range of branded moon cakes so you can Kenny up your next Mooncake Festival.

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