Testosterone rules at this casual hot-wing hangout..
Waitresses in shiny tan nylons and tight, orange, '70s track shorts serve up beer and pub grub at this proudly "tacky yet unrefined" sports bar-restaurant. Tables are packed with men of all ages, from high-powered suits to college guys in baseball caps. While salads, sandwiches and shellfish are on the menu, most folks order chicken wings--available in six levels of spice intensity, from mild to super-hot 911.
The chicken wings are good, buy you can buy them in the frozen section at Safeway. Having tried the same chicken wings which you can find in the frozen food section at some Safeways, I was expecting the same tasting wings at the restaurant. The tables were waited on by politically incorrect attired waitresses in tight tank tops and equally tight orange hotpants. Where are the waiters?? The caesar side salad was just chopped romaine lettuce, a plastic cup of parmesan cheese and dressing on the side - unmemorable for $3. The chicken wings at a $8, came with 10 pieces, the ones on top of the plate was crunchy, but the ones on the bottom were oily and not crispy enough. Blue cheese or ranch dip was an extra 99 cents. The sodas came in huge glasses $3. The Philly cheese steak sandwich was surprisingly good, with a 1/2 pickle, side of potato salad (just ok). It came to $30 for 2 lunches and the atmosphere was loud. People hooting and cheering as they watched the Florida games from the multiple TVs scattered throughout the rooms. Our waitress was nice and provided friendly service. Still, you can get the same chicken wings at home without all the noise - buy the frozen wings at Safeway, it's cheaper too. There were a few kids there, I'm not sure how appropriate the parents thought it was for the kids to see the waitresses dressed like that when Rainforest Cafe was close by.
Hungry Hefers in Disguise. Worst food to go eat . Food was expensive. And while we were leaving she asked for the left over of the peanut butter pie and ate it right in front of us.
yes m'am. The service here is always great because the waitresses are supposed to be friendly and flirty. Besides the helpful service, the food here is actually good. The sampler, burgers, and beer were better than I expected. The atmosphere is very casual, laid back, and fun. There should be more locations!
Believe the Hype. i went to the Hooter last summer and i had a great time, yeah a waited a while to be seated, but it had just open up. so yeah i am going to have a long wait, but once i was seated the waitress showed my brother, who had never been to a hooters' before, and I a great time. the food and the atmosphere was just as i expected.
It Is What It Is. Ah, sweet Hooters, finally gracing our fair city with its proud mediocrity. Between the waitresses in this place and the double-doubles at In-n-Out next door, there's finally a valid reason for locals to make the trip up to the wharf. We put our names on the list and scarfed down a box of burgers while we waited, about twenty minutes in the middle of the week. I definitely recommend this approach of bypassing the Hooters cuisine altogether, stay focused on the beer and the short shorts, which is why you're there in the first place.
Horrible. With the much anticipated fanfare of Hooter's grand opening in SF, I, along with countless members of the male species anxiously drooled at the thought of the infamous "delightfully tacky, yet unrefined" haven of breasts galore. Unfortunately, the experience was an utter disaster. The wait was a 75-minute debacle. Suggestion - stand next the hostess at all times and breathe down her neck while waiting to be sure you're w/in earshot of her voice. Once seated, it was another 20 minutes before our beers appeared on the table. Our waitress was incompetent, insensitive, and unable to deliver our orders properly. This may have been overlooked if she was a stunning lingerie model, but sadly that was not the case. Overall, despite the intrigue of voluptuous beer, I was thoroughly disappointed and recommend boycotting the establishment.
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