By David Laprad
The email from Taco Mac landed in my inbox with a splash of salsa and the aroma of grilled meats.
I could almost taste the selections the restaurant was touting as part of its new lunch menu for spring:
“Crisp salads come in various options, including the Southwest salad topped with succulent shrimp, a traditional garden salad with perfectly seasoned grilled chicken or shrimp, and a grilled chicken BLT salad that will satiate any appetite. Wing lovers can feast on various flavor options, and there are also several choices for those who prefer their chicken in a wrap or sandwich, including grilled, Southern-fried and Buffalo style.”
I was sold after reading “Southwest salad topped with succulent shrimp.” When my friend Maggie asked me to lunch, I told her I had the perfect place.
Or so I thought. (Cue dramatic mariachi music.)
Taco Mac isn’t a Chattanooga original. Started by two friends from Buffalo, New York, in 1979, the restaurant has 28 locations across Georgia, Tennessee and Alabama. Taco Mac has received numerous accolades over the years, including being named among the “Best Sports Bars in Atlanta” (Thrillist), one of the “15 Best Sports Bars in Atlanta” (Foursquare), the best sports bar in Georgia in The Daily Meal’s roundup of “Best Sports Bar in Every State,” and one of the “Best Places to Watch ... Football in Atlanta” (Eater).
The joint also made USA Today’s list of “Best Sports Bars in Atlanta.”
While Taco Mac does make a lot of best sports bar lists, it doesn’t make many actual tacos, despite its name. Call me baffled (because I was), but when I glanced at the menu for the first time, I was surprised to see the establishment’s first name relegated to a box with four options.
Still, Taco Mac has been a part of the local conversation about downtown Chattanooga dining for many years, and the debut of its spring lunch menu seemed like a great opportunity to become acquainted with its food.
Maggie and I were there during Taco Mac’s lunch rush Friday, May 10, and there were patrons at only one other table when we arrived at 12:45. Also, in lieu of football, the restaurant was playing extreme sports videos, including one of three adventure seekers hopping like jackrabbits down a mountain without any visible gear.
“I don’t think we’re their target demographic,” I suggested to Maggie as I watched a first-person clip of a man running off a ledge and jumping onto a pinnacle below without falling off.
Maggie didn’t hear me because she was ordering fish and chips, which is not one of Taco Mac’s spring lunch menu options but is her go-to meal when we dine out.
When I asked our server for the “Southwest salad topped with succulent shrimp,” he looked at me funny and then chuckled politely when I said I was quoting an email. (Yes, I felt like a dork.)
When our food arrived after a longer-than-expected wait, a different staff member heaved it onto our table like the drive-in server in “The Flintstones” placing an order of Bronto Ribs on Fred’s car. In other words, our plates were piled high.
“Bonus points for presentation,” I said to Maggie. I doubt she heard me over the crunch of her first bite of fish.
As I plunged my fork into what looked like a pile of greens, sliced cherry tomatoes, black beans, diced avocados, tortilla strips and grilled shrimp, I noticed the lack of a key ingredient: the chipotle dressing listed with the ingredients on the menu.
After Maggie waved our original server to our table, the young man and I engaged in a bewildering conversation:
Me: “My salad has no dressing.”
Server: “They add the dressing in the kitchen.”
Me: “This salad is dry.”
Server: “They mix the dressing into the salad.”
Me: “Be that as it may, this salad has none. It’s leaves and shrimp.”
Server: “I can bring you extra dressing, if you like.”
Me: “I would like.”
As I waited for my “extra” serving of dressing, I thought perhaps the server had been trying to pull a Jedi mind trick on me to make me believe my salad was already coated in chipotle:
Me: “My salad has no dressing.”
Server: “They add the dressing in the kitchen.”
Me: “They added the dressing in the kitchen.”
Server: “You will enjoy your salad.”
Me: “I will enjoy my salad.”
Server: “I am no longer the waiter you are looking for.”
As I mixed thick glops of the dressing into my mess of greens, which overwhelmed the moderate helpings of black beans and diced avocados, Maggie said the shrimp looked good.
She was right. If one thing about my first visit to Taco Mac went as advertised, the shrimp were “succulent.” After they were gone, I left the remaining tangle of greens and tortilla strips uneaten.
Whenever I dine out, I hope to find food that stands out from the crowd, as well as an establishment with a unique identity. Perhaps it’s unfair to pan Taco Mac for being generic, but the truth was in my salad.
Of course, many people enjoy the basics. Maggie loved the fish and chips, for example. But even basic food should be done well.
Maybe Maggie and I will return to Taco Mac another day to try the wings, which many folks have assured me are outstanding. Until then, I’m going to train in the ways of the Jedi to see if I can pull a reverse mind trick on our server:
Me: “I’d like a plate of naked wings with ranch dressing.”
Server: “Excellent choice, sir.”
Me: “Tonight is all-you-can-eat night.”
Server: “Prepare to eat your fill.”
Taco Mac’s revamped lunch menu is available weekdays from 11 a.m.-2 p.m.