Adam & Eats: Catfish Cove

 

Editor’s note: Adam Brandt is a graduate from the Cobra Kai School of Culinary Callousness, where he received their highest award, the Red Apron of Merciless Eating. Aside from eating and talking about eating, he makes pots, paintings, prints, books, photographs, and generally, a big mess. He has been the studio assistant at Mudpuppy Pottery for almost nine years and is attending a local university in a desperate attempt to earn a biology degree. Feel free to give him a hard time.

If you were to tell the average Southerner that there was all-you-can-eat catfish and hushpuppies it would seem to be a dream come true. What they failed to mention is that sometimes that dream is not a good dream, but a bad dream. Unfortunately for Catfish Cove, the dream falls into the latter category.

Upon approaching the entrance, a sign informs you that if you have parked your car in the Dog Grooming lot, the chances are it will not be there when you finish stuffing yourself with fried fish. This sign should be taken as it is intended, as a warning sign. If you were to don your X-ray glasses, the hidden message on the sign might read “Eat here at you own risk.”

Upon entering, you will be greeted and then seated by someone who does not seem pleased to see you, and once seated, your server will greet you with undertones of “Please hurry and eat, so that I don’t have to attend to you any longer.” Drinks are ordered and delivered and then, the much anticipated, and later, regretted, feeding begins.

Behold, the glory of the all you can eat catfish buffet with its end-to-end rows of Southern staple foods. It is shining like a beacon of deliciousness through the darkness of your mammoth hunger. There are mashed potatoes with your choice of brown or white gravy, beef brisket, fried shrimp, chicken strips, kickin’ chicken, fried catfish with and without the bones, fried okra, fried squash, fried green beans, potato wedges, barbeque ribs, smoked catfish, scalloped potatoes, coleslaw, macaroni salad, green pea salad, pickled okra, regular and jalapeno hushpuppies, chocolate cake, cinnamon rolls, cobblers, and a fresh green salad.

You might think to yourself that you’ve never seen a more beautiful sight. You stack your plate high with as much comfort food as will fit without spilling, make your way back to your table, take the much anticipated first bite and WOWEE! It is as if, the heavy-handed cooks mistook the bag of salt for the bag of corn meal and then deep-fried it in fish oil.

The only shining stars of the entire dining experience are the fried squash, the sweet tea, the fried shrimp, and the cinnamon roll. No matter how much of those four things you consume, it will hardly be worth the price you are about to pay to consume them, both financially and gastronomically. If you have the bright idea to eat there for lunch, you might as well take the rest of the day off or else face the prospects of spending the next four hours at your desk groaning and eating handfuls of antacids.

If you enjoy lighting your gall bladder on fire and dehydrating at every meal, then Catfish Cove is the place for you.

And what is up with the décor? I have it on good authority that, though the placement has changed, the decorations have been the same for more than 20 years. Perhaps a little updating is in order. Sure, a country theme is quaint, and appropriate for this restaurant, but it comes off as more “Deliverance” than “Fried Green Tomatoes.”

Looking back on my experience, the only reason I would eat there again would be if my doctor said my cholesterol was way too low and I needed to increase my salt intake by about 1,000%. Before rushing over to Catfish Cove, though, I would most definitely seek a second opinion.

But alas, this review is just an opinion, and like all opinions should be taken with a grain of salt. That is unless you just ate at Catfish Cove, in which case you’ve had all the salt you need.

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Adam also has this thing called Sandwich Control.