Grandmother's

Not the best restaurant in town but it was nice for a change.  They have a nice view of Omaha and my wife really likes the fried cauliflower.  When she is happy I'm happy.

When I was a poverty-stricken college student at UNO, nightly eating microwaved baked potatoes for "dinner" along with the occasional splurge for a Totino's frozen pizza (back then, two for a dollar!), Grandmother's was my high-dollar dining option of choice.

About once a month I'd pick up my hard-earned ducats, pick up my girlfriend in my swanky '79 Ford Fiesta and kill a substantial portion of my weekly bread at Grandmother's on what I guess you'd call "a date." I should have been saving my money, instead I'd order the brochettes and beef and chicken dinner for a kingly $11.95.  The waiter/waitress would start us with an enormous salad served in a large chilled glass bowl -- fresh green lettuce drizzled in dressing topped with a cascade of toasted croutons. Along with that, a complimentary warm loaf of bread served on a woodblock cutting board. Heaven.

The entree was nothing less than divinity served hot -- chunks of sautéed steak and chicken breasts doused in a subtle teriyaki glaze, served with french fries. And if I really felt like splurging, an order of Grandmother's famous onion rings -- crispy golden breaded gifts from God the size of handcuffs stacked high on a plate like the Leaning Tower of Fried Root Vegetables.

Dinner with my girlfriend at Grandmother's would set me back a good portion of my weekly salary and would mean another week's worth of baked potatoes and/or frozen death discs, but it was worth every delectable bite.

It is here that I'll point out the one other thing I knew about Grandmother's -- it was either owned or operated by jet-set politician, dater of movie stars and then possible presidential candidate Bob Kerrey. For all I knew, Kerrey was back in the kitchen manning the onion ring fryer with Debra Winger by his side nuzzling his ear lobe Paula-style a la An Officer and a Gentlemen.

Back in the day there were at least three Grandmother's locations -- one on 132nd, another on bustling 90th and Dodge, and what is now the sole surviving Omaha location where we had lunch last weekend. You know how they say "The more things change, the more they stay the same"? That doesn't apply here.

Stepping into the restaurant we were immediately transported back to the early 1980s. The decor had not been touched since the last time I slid into a booth wearing a vintage Dire Straits T-shirt. Oak on oak on brown Naugahyde.

What had changed was the food. Brochettes of beef and chicken no longer was on the menu. Instead, I ordered a French Dip sandwich and a salad. The waitress came back with a sad little plate of wilted lettuce covered in sugary dressing and adorned with one lonely tomato. No hot loaf of bread. I guess that's only a dinner thing. Then came the sandwich -- old leathery brown meat stuffed in a hoagie that resembled a hot dog bun. Teresa's club sandwich -- a pile of greasy meat and cheese and "spread" pressed between cracker-thick toast -- was left mostly uneaten.

I know it's not fair. I know that he probably hasn't had ownership in the restaurant in years. But for whatever reason I blame Bob Kerrey for my dismal lunch. How could he have let this happen to Grandmother's?

On Friday, had the sliders as an appetizer, hearkens me back to my Navy days.  Waiting for the club steak entree was a bit of a yawn-fest, when it arrived it was somewhat OK.  The fried ice cream was good, however.  So, it was OK.  I am under the impression that Anthony's has them beat hands down.  Go to Grandmother's anyway.