I have a feeling that my thoughts regarding Grill on the Hill, 324 SW 25th, might upset many people, especially those that “work” at the capitol. But I (typically) try my best to be honest with the readers and if it means sensually whipping my hindquarters against a smooth tree, then so be it. So here goes: Grill on the Hill isn’t very good.
Something of a living legend in Oklahoma City, Grill on the Hill is located in the thriving Latinx section of the city known as Capitol Hill. It was yet another in a long list of restaurants I was going to review last year but, due to Covid, had to put off for another 365 days. However, now I’m thinking I should have waited much longer.
With my favorite gal-pal Jodie in requisite tow, as we made our way down the street and in to the place, where I immediately noticed that much of the clientele was far older than expected, not that I’m complaining about that, being near middle age myself, I promise.
As we ordered our food from the menu on the wall and shuffled back near the front door to find the only open table in the place, which we were both happy with, we sat there for a few minutes as I made dumb jokes while she talked about married life; it always does my heart good to see her doing so well, especially as of late.
We quickly received our starter, the Atomic Tots ($6.99); while I was expecting a veritable nuclear blast of potatoes down my throat, the few jalapenos dropped on the tasteless tater tots, marked with chili, cheese and sour cream, were no better than, I imagine, the capitol’s cafeteria, if they even had one. We took a few bites and then packed them away, a forlorn feeling coming over me...
Still, I was ruefully optimistic, as I usually try to be when not in a somewhat depressive funk. I received the Buffalo Strip Tacos ($9.99) with open arms, creative enough to spice up the already spicy pieces of chicken. With large cuts placed in a tortilla and topped with plenty of ranch, they were fine, but, sadly, nothing special, the dressing making the loose flour sheathes tear apart each time I picked them up.
Now, from years of writing these reviews, I know that someone will write in to let me know that I’m not only a racial and/or homosexual epithet, but that I ordered the wrong thing because of it and I should have ordered their choice instead. It was with that fear in mind that I ordered the first burger on the list, the 1/3 pound Indian Taco Burger ($7.99).
After treating myself to the Native Burgers from the various Indigenous clubs around town—still the best in all the land!—I was deeply disappointed as this was just an open-faced burger with a dumpage of beans, chili, and the necessary accoutrements available, with the exception of any frybread where the buns are.
This isn’t an Indian Taco burger—it’s just a typical burger with taco fixings on top, I sadly lamented as my fork dug around on the plate just to make sure.
After a few more bites we packed it all in; I was filled with dread because I not only had to write this review, but now have to deal with the backlash that I’m sure it will bring, knowing that I’ll just have to take the barbs and stings from their citywide fandom, living to eat another day.
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