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Type: Contemporary American
Prices: Appetizers, salads $3.99-$7.99; sandwiches $8-$10.99; entrees $7.99-$16.99; desserts $4.99.
Good choices: Bimini wings; chicken monsoon with pasta; sunset salmon; plant sandwich of grilled vegetables; chocolate diablo cake.
Hours: Sun.-Thurs. 11 a.m.-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. 11 a.m.-11 p.m.
Reservations for large parties; after Jan. 1, reservations will be taken for everyone. No smoking.
Credit cards: All major credit cards accepted.
Access: Fully accessible.
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RAINFOREST CAFE
75 Middlesex Turnpike, Burlington
(Burlington Mall)
(781) 272-7555
Restaurant reviewed 12/24/98 by Alison Arnett
Everything moves in the Rainforest Cafe: An animatronic elephant raises its trunk in a subdued trumpeting; an animated gorilla beats his chest; water pours down a rock-like wall; a fake thunder and lightning storm shakes the fake trees; live fish dart in and out of rocks in aquariums. Amid the real and simulated action, wait staff scurry through the room like so many ants.
It's semi-dim back here in the depths of the jungle, in the sought-after seats in the house. That and the kinetic action, complete with sound effects, give me a slight sense of vertigo. For a moment, I wonder if this is the future -- all the restaurants themed, all full of make-believe creatures, all serving the same food in Burlington, and Miami, and Gurnee, Ill., and Bloomington, Minn. (home of the first Rainforest in the megamall of all malls.). And on, and on, and on.
But I snap back to attention to my son and his friend, both very happy to be here where the lines are long and the food is tried and true -- after all, there's a big Rainforest at Disney World, the ultimate recommendation for a kid. The solicitous waitress , soliticious and probably a mother herself, leans over to take our order for drinks and asks if we'd like something to start. "I'd suggest the Bimini wings," she says in a confidential manner to me. "Boys love them."
Of course, we have to have those, as well as the obligatory pizza and a hamburger, foods these two boys eat every week but still insist on having when they dine out. I opt for the salmon marinated in soy mustard vinaigrette.
While we munch on chicken wings -- crusty, fried wings with lots of salt and spice and not bad at all -- we take in the room. There are lots of kids, ranging from toddlers to older teen couples. But many of the other diners are Christmas shoppers taking a break, from the looks of the packages piled next to their seats, and many are senior citizens. This Rainforest, part of a chain of 23 started in 1994, is on the small side, with 350 seats, compared to the almost 600 seats at Disney World.
The menu, offering everything from soup to sandwiches to entrees sold all day every day, sticks to the jungle theme with lots of cute names like "Maya pastalaya" (linguine with chicken, shrimp, sausages, and Cajun spices) to "Rumble in the jungle turkey pita" (romaine lettuce with sliced turkey and Caesar dressing). Prices aren't Cheap Eats territory, but do stick to $10-$14 for entrees; volume of sales is definitely the point.
My dining companions are sedate compared to some of the younger customers -- after the 2-year-old at the next table hops up for the umpteenth time to crow "Hello, Mr. Elephant" at the plaster creature behind me, I think about bringing earplugs for the next visit. When his pizza, a flatbread, really, with tomato sauce and cheese, arrives, my son's friend spends at least 20 minutes carefully removing each sliver of basil from it.
The pizza is unobjectionable in taste but the crust is flaccid and wouldn't stand up to that from a corner pizza joint. My son is happy with his standard burger with the waffle fries, an extra cost also suggested by the waitress. My salmon is quite good, moist and slightly sweet-hot from the marinade. But the sauteed vegetables with it are woefully limp and oily, probably stir-fried ahead of time, absorbing the oil, and then reheated.
Definitely, the high point of the meal is were the chicken wings, and the boys, satiated, even forgo dessert. "Wouldn't you at least like some coffee?" the waitress suggests.
It would seem odd to say that the Rainforest food is inconsistent since the menu is so standardized. But the dishes do vary in quality, or perhaps the kitchen staff, overseen by executive chef Richard Wineman, varies in capabilities. On one visit, I try the Maya pastalaya. "Fresh-cooked linguine," the description says. I'm unsure what that is trying to convey, possibly that the pasta wasn't parboiled hours ahead of time. It's not too limp, and the seafood, chicken, and andouille sausage on top are plentiful enough. But the seasoning -- chili powder sprinkled much too liberally -- tastes stale, hot but flat, making the whole dish unpleasant.
Other pasta dishes are more successful. Chicken monsoon boasts very skillfully grilled chicken over firm linguine with a salsa of tomatoes, corn, and shrimp. Although the chicken is also supposed to have Cajun seasoning, here it is applied with a light touch. The Planet Earth pasta with a chunky tomato sauce is also quite good.
For the most part, there's an obvious effort to treat vegetables well. Grilled portobello mushrooms and other vegetables in a sandwich of multigrain bread are flavorful and firm, although the Caesar dressing has a packaged, chemical taste. The greens on the salads are crisp and fresh, up several notches from mall restaurant standards.
All the portions here are gigantic, more really than is sensible for even an adult to eat. Of the desserts, the best is a mammoth slab of chocolate cake with a frozen chocolate pudding filling, plenty for two or three. It's a little stiff in texture but flavorful.
As I look around the Rainforest one last time before leaving, I ponder its popularity. It's true the food is passable, with the American fondness for salt and sugar emphasized, and gauged to appeal to a broad age range. The wait staff is cheerful, competent, and seemingly able to move at morph speed. There's a nod toward good works -- a handout proclaims that thousands of dollars are given to organizations working to stop importation of wildlife. And live parrot shows and lectures by a full-time bird curator are given throughout the day in front of the restaurant. The retail shop has the same stuff -- sweatshirts, caps, plastic figurines -- that you'd find at any souvenir joint. I finally decide that the appeal -- why people with kids in strollers and grandma and grandpa will stand in line for 20 minutes or more to get a card allowing them to wait another 30 to 90 minutes to be seated -- is just the popularity itself. Americans -- actually all humans -- are social creatures: They want to like what everybody else likes. They want to like what's successful. As my husband's Aunt Jeanne cq said a few years ago after a two-hour wait to try another chain success: "What's not to like? I went home and called my broker."
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