BUD

DAN

Main Dish

Buffalo Chicken Wrap

I’ve had one or two Buffalo chicken wraps in my time, and this one merits special recognition for some really fine chicken. The picture shows pretty well how they were these thick, substantial tenders, nice and juicy with some good breading. That’s half the battle.

Unfortunately, the wrap didn’t fare as well in the other half. The hot sauce was unremarkable—not the harsh vinegary water that I hate so much, at least, but simply forgettable. The cheese was a non-factor. (I don’t demand cheese in my Buffalo chicken wraps, but if you’re gonna throw it in there, I should know it.) The blue cheese dressing was supposed to be on the side, which I’m ambivalent about—but in this case it was omitted entirely until I thought to ask for it. (To be fair, that may be more a service issue than an issue with the dish itself.)

All in all, this wrap was satisfactory but not extraordinary.

Main Dish

Mushroom Cheeseburger

I’ll give Coach House this much: this was the cheesiest burger I have ever had in my entire life. (Coincidentally, the runner-up of cheesiest clump of meat with some good buns is obviously Buddy.) My mushroom cheeseburger was an absolute monster. The patty was about as wide as a pancake. It was nuts. The cheese (mozzarella, obv) was on BOTH buns, which just tickled me. Why isn’t this common practice? So, super cheesy and giant meat—sounds like a perfect burger? Well…

Here were my problems. First, the patty. Though enormous, the meat was kinda greasy. Not like Five Guys (Burgers and Fries) greasy, like “MMM MMM can’t wait to drink that grease” greasy. Just like you’re-in-for-burger-burps-for-the-next-three-days greasy. Second problem, which in my opinion was much worse, was the mushrooms. You ask for mushrooms on a burger, those bad boys are sautéed in butter and boom. Done. These mushrooms tasted like they have been sitting in a bin of vinegar for a week before they hit my burger. If mushrooms could go sour like milk, this is what I’d imagine it’d taste like.

Fries

It can be tough to review French fries in retrospect, sometimes a few days after we visited the diner, because I have to refer to our pictures to jog my memory, and most fries don’t look all that different from one to the next. I recall clearly, though, that I didn’t need to salt these, so that’s a plus.

Fries

I, unlike Buddy, VIVIDLY remember these fries. Specifically, it was akin to the way one remembers an unpleasant coworker: you don’t need to engage beyond what’s necessary, Dan. Just do your job, Dan, interact with her these fries as little as possible because they’re awful. This, is of course, totally symbolic. I’ve never worked with Lisa, nor have I had a terrible working experience with her because she’s the worst.

Anyway these fries were…not good. They tasted like old fries that were thrown back into the deep fryer to make them seem fresh again. I barely ate more than two or three—just enough to give myself enough material to write about.

Dessert

Chocolate Cheesecake

Dan and I might differ on this point, I haven’t asked her yet, but I think our whipped cream request may have finally backfired on this one. Dan was explicit—dare I say graphic—when she instructed the waiter to just go hog wild with the whipped cream. The picture pretty much tells the story here. Normally I complain that the whipped cream (or the vanilla ice cream, in the case of a brownie sundae) is pathetically out of balance with the cake, but this time was simply excessive. Sorry, Dan.

It’s tough to comment on the merits of the cheesecake itself because I had to excavate through the whipped cream to get to it. I can observe that, like most places, the ostensible “chocolate cheesecake” is really just plain cheesecake with a robe of chocolate ganache. It’s fine as far as it goes, but I’d still like to find a place that serves a chocolate cheesecake where the batter itself is flavored.

Dessert

Chocolate Cheesecake

If diner ratings are the World of Warcraft of our experience, then the whipped cream experience is the Bejeweled portion of the game. Getting as much whipped cream as humanly possible on our cheesecakes has turned into an exciting (at least for me) challenge/mini-game in our diner experiences. I don’t remember being particularly graphic in my whipped cream request but I don’t doubt for a second that it happened. Sometimes I just get cake-sassy and I don’t know what comes over me.

Take a look at that cake. Go ahead. I don’t know how any future diner can top this beauty. Bud says too much whipped cream, I say just enough. To be honest, the cheesecake itself was just meh. Nothing sexy. Just regular cheesecake with some light chocolate ganache on top. As far as chocolate cheesecakes go, this was probably the least exciting in my immense history with this dessert. It was an unexciting cake, but the whipped cream bumps it up a whole burger for me.

Service

Our guests (hi, mom and dad) have made Coach House their regular place lately, and the waiter interacted with him as if they’re well familiar. When I asked our guests (hi, mom and dad), if he’s their regular waiter, I think they said that they’ve never had him before? I don’t know. It was unclear.

In any case, he had a good sense of humor, which of course we value highly. My only complaint is about his absence from the table—or rather, lack of it. Normally when we complain about this, it’s because the waiter has taken our order, dropped off our food, and then donned a pair of Groucho glasses and avoided us until it’s time to deliver the check. Our man here was the opposite and, while I much enjoyed the banter, it did sometimes go on too long. No harm done, just a minor issue.

Also, my wrap initially was sans the promised blue cheese dressing. I don’t know if that was on the waiter or the kitchen.

Service

Bud, your mom literally said the words, “We’ve had this guy before, he’s a little…different.” You just don’t listen.

I loved this guy. He was like a magician that pulls out those handkerchiefs out of their sleeves, but instead of hankies, it was corny dad-jokes. It was adorable and he was so quick and happy. I can’t imagine in any of this worlds’ multiple dimensions, being a waiter is anything BUT a difficult, thankless job. That being said, it’s always so nice to see waitstaff that’s pleasant and peppy. I for one know how easy it is to let one bad client ruin your whole day, and it says a lot when our waiter/waitress manages to be happy despite all that. Our guy here either loves his job or is just that happy about life in general.

I will admit, though, that more than once did he lay on us with some jokes, and then just…linger. That’s rule one of being a fast-shooting joke-slinger. Hit em’ with your best stuff then disappear before they can tell you that you joke actually wasn’t funny at all.

Value

My mediocre rating here comes down to one fact: my wrap was nearly $13. As far as size, ingredients, and overall presentation, there was nothing at all remarkable about this wrap, yet it was two or three bucks pricier (what’s that, like twenty or thirty percent? I don’t have a graphing calculator available) than a comparable dish at comparable joints. Obviously, $13 isn’t going to send us to the poorhouse (no, that’ll happen because our dog immediately destroys every chewtoy we give him, yet we keep buying him more), but in this context it was a bit much.

Value

My cheeseburger deluxe rang in at $12.75 and our cheesecake was a fair $5.25. I can’t complain about these prices (though Bud has every right to—$13 for a wrap?!). The prices seem fair enough, even on par with what we’re used to. I just don’t feel like the food was quite…good enough to justify these prices.

Ambience

Aesthetically, Coach House is virtually the prototype diner. They’ve even preserved the salad bar, which—if my extensive childhood memories of diner visits are at all accurate—used to be a big diner thing that has since fallen out of favor. The building has nice, big windows (though the view onto Route 4 isn’t exactly scenic), and we were seated in a cozy booth that felt nicely private without being secluded.

Also, this isn’t really an ambient feature but there’s no better place to mention it: this is one of those classic places that serves complimentary bread before the meal. That scores big points with me.

Ambience

I’m never in love with the ambiance of Coach House. I used to go pretty often when I was but a little young diner reviewer, so I’ve had a while to forge this opinion. It’s fine. Old-fashioned looking. Lots of wood features, very typical diner aesthetic. There’s just something…I don’t know…like chain restaurant about the overall feel. It reminds me of what I imagine the love child of Charlie Brown’s and Houlihan’s would look like. It’s predictable and clean, but nothing fun about it.

OVERALL

I believe Coach House does a lot right. It’s a comfortable environment with some appealing old-school details, like complimentary bread and a salad bar (which I would rarely use, but hey, it’s nice to know it’s there). I wasn’t very impressed with my food, but I wonder if this would be a good place to opt for a proper dish rather than a wrap or burger. There will probably be another visit at some point. I’ll report back.

OVERALL

Coach House certainly does their job. They’re not the porridge that’s too hot, or the porridge that’s too cold. They’re just right. But sometimes just right is boring. In this case, Coach House is boring porridge. It gets the job done, sure, but America deserves better than a place that just “gets the job done.”