A Woman's View of Tilted Kilt
In this occasional series, Teresa Lensch provides a woman's view of area "breastaurants." She previously filed dispatches from Twin Peaks and Wild Pitch.
Chad Horwedel The bras are pushy. The service is not.
Here we are in our third week. We've seen some interesting things together. Some tame, some a little vulgar. What did you expect, waitresses braiding each other's hair and talking about knee socks in the girls' room?
Tonight I'm at Tilted Kilt in Frisco with a group of friends to celebrate some birthdays. Let me flash forward a bit. Two hours in, I will find myself in the girls' room. Talking to some waitresses about knee socks. While they braid each other's hair. This place is tame. Innocent. Maybe even ... sweet?
It's pub-like. It's about five times bigger than a respectable pub should be. It's still cozy, though. And our hostess, in her tartan skirt, knee socks and black mary janes, has the spirit of a newly elected junior high school student council president. Table for seven? Super! Let's get you a spot over here! I let her know that we're here for two birthdays: one last week and one tomorrow.
Hostess: "Ooooooh can we embarrass them?"
Me: "Please do!"
Hostess: "We'll pretend like they're both today. Free desserts, a song..." No dancing on the table or body shots, and I am SO okay with that.
We get seated and I can't help but notice that the one thing... the only thing... that qualifies this spot for a place in the series is that push-up bra on our waitress. That is the pushiest push-up bra I've ever seen. I am not even sure where to look. Is it rude to stare? Will she be insulted if I don't at least look? That is one pushy bra. But because the girls are so damn sweet here, all I am thinking is that I need to ask where they got these amazing bras. I want one.
Let me point out that there is not just one, but several tables of ONLY women. I also see babies, couples on dates, and men who look like they have real jobs. The overall vibe is more like Bennigans than The Gentlemen's Club, and the uniforms actually remind me of Molly Shannon's Mary Catherine Gallagher character on SNL.
In front of us we've got an impressive menu. Some cool mixed tea cocktails served up in mason jars are super refreshing on this hot summer night. They've got flatbreads, tasty (and cheap) "hoppy hour" appetizer specials like whiskey beef skewers with Sam Adams Boston lager demi glace, and some serious Texas heat options. Like the S.O.B (South of the Border) burger, which is what I order. It has tequila habanero salsa on top, and habanero tequila cream cheese. That's pretty much all I need to know.
My husband (how does he keep getting in?) says he'll have The Banger.
Waitress: "YEAH you will!" Wink.
Ohhhh who cares. They train them to flirt. And she's just too stinking sweet for me to care. You go, sister.
This burger is one I have to order again. It's got heat, but not too much. Sometimes with "hot" dishes you get no flavor, but this has plenty.
My crew gets their birthday song from four of the girls, and it is innocently reminiscent of any chain restaurant experience you've ever had. Lame and predictable, just as birthday songs at restaurants should be.
We are well taken care of for the most part. For about 30 minutes the waitstaff seem to disappear, but I don't mind because they are probably braiding each other's hair in the bathroom, and women deserve such luxuries.