Being the youngest “oldest” people at the Brickhouse is not fun. An upscale version of a Hooters, the Brickhouse (at FM 1960 and 59) apparently prides itself on babes and beer ― scantily clad waitresses and an expansive beer menu. They even have trading cards (yes, trading cards) of their waitresses, with a picture of the waitress in a plunging neckline shirt on one side and likes and dislikes and fun facts on the other. It was like reading Playboy without the fun cartoons.
Chicken Fried Neighbor and I ate outside one chilly Friday ― being the young, elderly type, we asked the waitress/model to turn down the music which was blaring Tom Petty at ear harming levels. Can’t do it ― it takes away from the “party theme” she told us. Turn up the heater, we implored! It’s as”high as it can go” she replied.
Despite my cranky objections to the atmosphere, the food was good.
The CFS was done well and enjoyable. The breading was crispy and served as a perfect complement to the creamy gravy. The gravy was a white gravy with good flavor but not enough pepper. A hearty dash of white pepper would have woken up an otherwise bland diary flavor. It also had mushrooms, which I didn’t care for. I think there are better ways to achieve flavor in a gravy.
The side I chose was the “cheesy potatoes,” glorified mashed potatoes with a healthy (not healthy for you) amount of cheddar cheese. There were big chunks of new potatoes which made the texture of the dish terrific. It’s hard to go wrong with that much starch and cheese and the dish did not disappoint. Still, it felt like a 9th grader’s version of mashed potatoes ― absent elegance, add cheese.
The CFS was also accompanied by a delightful Texas toast ― crispy and buttery on one side and soft and pillowy on the other.
The food is good here, as long as you can tolerate the atmosphere.