I think that we all have to agree that different people like different foods.
There are, for example, people who eat vegetables and other items dug up from the dirt! I find this behavior unconscionable; however, I have to acknowledge that different people have different attitudes.
Just like people’s attitudes about food differ, so too do their attitudes about what to expect at the dining out experience. For some it’s about the ambience. For others it’s about the food. And if it’s about the food, sometimes people make weird comparisons to “home cooked” foods. Why is “home cooked food” the gold standard that so many people apply? Let’s be brutally honest: You may love your mother, but statistically speaking there is only an infinitesimal chance that her cooking – of any dish whatsoever – is the best in the world. Rapidly approaching zero. (Sorry, mom.)
It’s wrong when you go to a restaurant to eat that you seek that “home cooked” meal experience. You should demand something better. It’s not shameful. Professional restaurants have access to more talent, more experience, more ingredients, and more equipment than you probably have at home. Embrace the experience. Revel in it! You never know when you might be trapped away at home, unable to go out to a restaurant to eat. You’ll appreciate it then.
With that in mind, yesterday we dined at the Glover Home, and I’d like to review the experience.
Before we talk about the food, lets talk about the ambience and the dining experience. We arrived at our assigned dinner location about 45 days ago. In the time preceding the first dinner seating of the day, Michelle, James and I spent our time in the waiting area, which was a half-assed attempt at creating a living room feel. There was a TV, two recliners and a badly-battered Ikea sofa. There was also an exercise bike, a Nintendo Switch, with a couple relatively recent games which kept the kids occupied.
The decor was clearly meant to simulate a living room, but was neither spotless nor decorated with tastefully chosen knickknacks as you would see on television. The furniture wasn’t arranged in a close-knit fashion designed to encourage conversation, but was instead placed with an eye towards watching the television. It had an eclectic mix of family photos (none of them in ornate gilded frames or even old-style black and white,) books and DVD cases – oh so many DVD cases. Considering how many DVDs were available, I was seriously worried about how long the wait for dinner was going to be. There was also quite a lot of just clutter. Things stacked, as if forgotten, in corners and other out-of-the-way parts of the floor.
Overall, I don’t know WHAT they were thinking and can only assume it’s some hipster thing. I said it was an eclectic mix – that was to be the theme for the evening.
Part of the unique experience of dinner at Glover Home is that one person, this time Chu-Wan, has to be designated to work the kitchen. This is not the first time I’ve been to a “theme” restaurant where the establishment hands you the food to cook – Korean BBQs and outdoor hamburger grills come to mind – but usually the entertainment value in that (if you can call it that) is the group “shared experience” that it fosters. Chucking one member of the party into the kitchen to do the work while the rest of the family plays Switch games in the waiting area just doesn’t cut it.
There’s another problem with that arrangement, too. The kitchen just wasn’t as well equipped as a commercial kitchen – I’m fact, I’m certain it wouldn’t pass a Maricopa County restaurant inspection – for lack of equipment if nothing else. While I wasn’t too worried about food-borne contamination, the inadequate facilities and staffing meant that not all the food could be delivered at once.
I don’t mean that like, the salad arrived before the soup, and the soup arrived before the main dishes – because there was no salad or soup. Nor even do I mean that the sides meant to accompany the main arrived separately, because there were no sides.
What I mean is that all four of us had the same main dish, but we could not all eat at once as the food had to be prepared in small batches. (We’ll come back to the variety of the menu later in this review.)
Technically, there was salad available. In a bag, and you had to serve it yourself. Shredded cheese was available, as was unlimited croutons. Well, unlimited until the box ran out. The choices of dressing were limited, but fortunately happened to be exactly the three dressings I eat: Italian, Caesar and Thousand Island. The advantage to this do-it-yourself approach meant that one could have croutons, cheese and loads of dressing and just skip the lettuce altogether.
Let’s talk a little bit about the menu. You’ve heard about those pompous, poseur, hoity-toity restaurants that don’t give you a choice for dinner? You just show up with your reservation and the chef has decided that tonight you eat steak tartare, asparagus in aspic and cranberry flan. You eat it and you rave about it to your friends, no matter how gawd-awful it was, because you got the privilege of eating at the restaurant and if you didn’t like it you’re obviously the proverbial swine that doesn’t appreciate pearls. Glover Home is a bit like that. They serve four set entrees a week, and if you don’t like what they’re serving that night, there’s a box of croutons to eat. They don’t even print the menu, they just shout what’s for dinner from the kitchen.
This week’s menu was Japanese Curry Rice, Taiwanese San-Bei Ji (a chicken dish), Australian Meat Pies and Spaghetti with Meat Sauce. What the heck kind of cuisine is that? There’s no consistency or pattern. Is it a Japanese restaurant, Taiwanese, what? I don’t know how any establishment can hope to get a following when you don’t get to pick your meal AND don’t have a clue what type of food you’re going to get.
They also do a weird special the other three nights a week. They call it “foraging” in which all the diners are let loose in the kitchen and are forced to battle it out to feed themselves with whatever is available in the pantry and freezer.
This review is for Australian Meat Pie night. When the first batch of food arrived, we were called to the dining area. Seating was communally around a utilitarian wooden table. The decor, if you could call it that, was from the early Mid-Pandemic Lockdown Era (circa 2020 C.E.). The table had a considerable amount of divers clutter, including textbooks, bills, face masks, hats and bits of home improvement projects, all pushed to the side to make room for plates.
There were also crumbs and other detritus left behind from previous meals giving the table the appearance of having been cleaned by teenagers as a token chore for earning their allowance money. Condiments were available in the form of a mismatched Dalek-shaped salt cellar and pepper pot. (I really liked the Dalek-shaped salt cellar, it added a touch of class to the table.). There was a napkin dispenser with the most varied array of mismatched paper napkins imaginable. It looked all the world like it was stocked with leftover napkins from different fast food restaurants.
Like everything else, the plates, utensils and cups were completely mismatched. Beverage choices were water, sweet tea, plus three kids of soda served IN CANS. Refills were available only for the water and sweet tea.
When the entree arrived, as previously mentioned, they were divvied out unevenly, since a second batch was in the kitchen. This prevented prevented Chu-Wan from being able to eat from the first salvo of pies. The pies were small, almost the size of fruit tarts, which I don’t blame the chef for, it was a limitation of equipment available in the kitchen. This meant that you needed three pies to make a decent-sized meal. The food itself was fine, slightly unevenly cooked and, I think could have used a bit more garlic and Worcestershire sauce, but perfectly serviceable. Not the best I’ve ever had, but not the worst. Certainly palatable enough that you didn’t feel the need to reach for the box of croutons.
One downside of the dining arrangement was that, with the waiting area so nearby, it was difficult keeping the kids at the table. The allure of the Nintendo Switch kept drawing their attention away from food.
For all its drawbacks, it has a certain indescribable appeal, we have after all, eaten here 45 nights in row, and you can’t complain about the price.
Compared to the “gold standard” of the home-cooked food experience, I rate this 5 stars out of 5. “It’s just like eating at home.”
The proof is in the eating. 
Dining together, but the Switch is calling 
Mismatch 
Clean the bloody table! 
DVDs, oh so many DVDs
- Open hours: 24×7, Serving hours vary
- Accepts credits cards: Yes, via PayPal
- Accepts ApplePay: Yes
- Accepts Android Pay: No
- Reservations: No
- Good for kids: Yes
- Pet-Friendly: Yes
- Attire: Casual (very casual)