Frankly, my dear . . .

There's not much to care for at Scarlett O'Hara's

912 Main Street, Worcester 753-7101
Mon.-Fri. 11:30 a.m.-9 p.m.
Sat. 4 p.m.-9 p.m.
Sun. Closed
Major credit cards
Liquor license
Handicap Accessible

by Jim Johnson

In one of the more memorable scenes in Gone With the Wind, Scarlett O'Hara proclaims, "I'll never go hungry again!" If she'd dined at her namesake restaurant on Main South, she might have reconsidered. Some meals make fasting seem preferable.

As a bar, Scarlett O'Hara's is probably fine. But as a restaurant, it fails horribly in brash counterpoint to the stylish space it took over virtually intact from Kamanitza's Bistro. Most of the interior design and artwork remain: a combination of casual, artsy elegance with off-beat charm and intrigue.

As Kamanitza's, the charming setting was matched with ambitious, creative cuisine. Service -- while quirky -- was attentive, friendly, and fun. Scarlett O'Hara's offered mostly bland renderings of basic cuisine with service that at one point became literally laughable.

As a friend and I entered, the bartender greeted us, guided us past a pinball machine into the empty dining room, and handed us our menus.

Although I'd been told three weeks earlier that the restaurant would be expanding the menu, the new menu had little to offer. The appetizers were basic: potato skins, Buffalo wings, nachos, grilled pizza, and chicken tenders. In addition to burgers and sandwiches, entrées included grilled chili dogs, the omelette of the day, open steak sandwich, grilled chicken breast, chicken pot pie, pasta primavera, and fish and chips.

When we asked about the soup of the day ($2.95), the bartender/server said that the clam chowder was "really excellent. I can't get enough of it." We ordered some, along with Buffalo wings ($4.95) and a mushroom pizza ($4.95).

The chowder was far from excellent. The clams were rubbery, the potatoes soft, the chowder itself starchy and bland. HoJo's has nothing to fear.

Our server returned shortly with the pizza and --instead of wings -- chicken tenders. When we brought the switch to his attention, he responded, "It's a misprint on the menu. We don't have wings." Nice time to tell us. Odder still, when the bill came, we saw he'd written "wings."

Ironically, the tenders were probably the best part of the meal. Each slice of white meat was moist and basted with mild barbecue sauce. The pizza, however, was a total disaster. The mushroom pieces -- perhaps less than a full mushroom altogether -- were dried out and burnt to a crisp. The cheese tasted baseball-park stale, as did the bland, stewed-tomato-like sauce. How about some oregano, basil, garlic, or hot pepper -- or even some salt or pepper?

While we remained alone in the dining area, business picked up in the bar. Soon a noisy crowd gathered around the pinball machine, distracting us -- thankfully -- from our dining.

When it came time to order our entrées, my conversation with the server went something like this:

"What's the omelette of the day?"

"It's make-your-own."

"What do you have?"

"Sausage, I think, and peppers."

"No thanks. How's the chicken breast?"

"Excellent."

"I'll have that then."

"We're all out. Try the open steak sandwich."

"Okay." (I would have ordered pickled pigs feet by then.)

"Hey, are you guys restaurant critics?"

At that point, my guest broke out laughing. In between gasps, he ordered fish and chips.

Nothing was actually wrong with our entrées. The steak was tender and cooked to perfect medium. The baked potato was just the right texture, and the roll was toasted to golden brown. Likewise, the fish was moist and flaky, with a crispy coating.

The one major flaw: no flavor. It was as if the cook had banished all herbs and spices from the kitchen. Even the A1 and Worcestershire sauces were bland. No, my taste buds weren't dead; water had been added to each bottle.

For dessert, the cheese cake was also bland -- a slab of what tasted like cream cheese run through the food processor.

As a bar, Scarlett O'Hara's could probably stick with finger food, pub fare, burgers, and sandwiches and do well. But, just as Crescent City Steak House focuses on New Orleans' cuisine, we thought that Scarlett O'Hara's would have also have a theme to set it apart -- perhaps a taste of the Old South. Unfortunately, like the food, the restaurant itself lacked personality and character -- a sad waste of a beautiful space.

In a final, bland insult to our senses, a Hootie tune played as we left.