For a Denny's, this place was great. We went really late and had them customize a vegetarian breakfast burrito for us and it was pretty good. The staff was very friendly. Obviously the food was pretty greasy and unhealthy but when you ask for a special order after midnight and your food isn't spit in you really can't complain.
Review Source:There is only one horrific confluence of circumstances that makes it acceptable to eat at Denny's. It must be so late that nothing else is open; you must have a group of people all of whom need sustenance; and it must be the case that no one is willing or capable of converting groceries into something more gustable. If such a alignment of the planets were to occur, it will constitute an affirmative defense and will absolve you of wrongdoing, but it will not silence the whispers behind your back when you return to polite society.
Shamefully I have met the above-stated factors on more than one occasion. Normally it was the case that band practice ran long and, being that it was no longer an option to have a pizza delivered, a guitarist would suggest that we seek sustenance (I use the term liberally) at the Keith Johnson Memorial Denny's (The Denny's establishment in question).
The ambiance is a mixed blessing; it is well-lit which allows you to thoroughly inspect the questionable food, but cutting the other way, it prevents you from hiding your shame in a dimly lit corner.
Everything at Denny's tastes wrong. There is no reason or excuse for this. If you took an egg and applied heat and nothing else, I could add the salt myself and eat it happily. Somehow during the application of heat they go out of their way to add an additional step else that makes the egg taste off. I dare not speculate as to what this step is, but by inductive logic I know it must exist.
Having proven their willingness to spitefully inhibit the flavor of their food, I would be remiss to not mention the unsettling, slightly stinging flavor of all meats. The ham and sausage taste as though they were seasoned with a ramen noodle spice packet. The result is that the ghastly simulacrum of flavor falls exactly into the uncanny valley; creating something that is so close to actual food, but not quite that your brain recoils in horror.
Ketchup bottles and syrup containers will provide the necessary lubrication to ingest the food provided, but they are slightly perverted, much as everything at Denny's is. A container is generally tasked with holding something inside of it and I have never witnessed a condiment container at Denny's that entirely accomplished this. All of the bottles have an unreasonable amount of their contents on the bottle itself, on the cap, on the handle, on the table where it sits, and occasionally even on neighboring containers.
I might propose a theory that Denny's itself emits a malevolent energy that erodes and twists the very nature and goodness of a thing. This would explain the eggs, the containers, the deeply unsettling meat seasoning, however that way lies madness. I simply choose not to gaze into the abyss unless I am forced to do so.