Applebee's Grill + Bar — Restaurant in Alpena Township

Where do even begin to describe the experience I along with my co-workers had. From the start our greeter Tanner and his helpfulness of facilitating a high top table instead of a booth and getting us situated. From there we knew we were in the right place.

The atmosphere was electric, the friendliness was amazing. Our server Ricky, was above and beyond. She took our order with such professionalism it was hard not to smile. One of my co-wokers suggested chips and salsa.

What showed up at our table can only be described as an experience only felt inside. Chef Reynaldo should be proud that his fresh ingredients and ability to mix the perfect salsa this side of El Paso.

By this time Ricky our server returned with the coldest beverages and took our entre orders. The must have been a crowd of people ordering the bourbon chicken salad because they had run out. She quickly suggested another option which was ordered.

While we waited for our food a birthday anthem was chanted by all, the look of happiness on Tanners face as they all happily cheered on the birthday party gave me a special feeling that this place cares.

When our entrees came to us, ohhh let me tell who ever is reading this, do yourself a favor, book a flight, rent a car, find a train to Alpena to this Applebee’s. Our food came in record time, but Chef Reynaldo didn’t skimp on the flavors he’s creating.

The freshness of the vegetables, ingredients and overall food was unimaginable. I have been to 5 star, Michelin rated restaurants. I can tell you this chef is going places. Flavors I didn’t know I could taste. I felt something, sounds I’ve met heard, colors I’ve never seen

Yes! At Applebee’s! Yes! After we were finished , our group couldn’t believe what we had just felt. We all felt sad that we were leaving a place that felt like home, not just another run of the mill chain. You’ve set the bar high Tanner, Rickey, Chef.

Their slogan might be “Eatin’ good in the neighborhood” it should be “Feeling good in the...

If you think you’ve eaten at Applebee’s before, think again. What my friend wrote was not a review — it was scripture. I walked in expecting half-price apps and left feeling like I had been spiritually reborn.

Tanner, the greeter, didn’t just seat us. He parted the booths like Moses parting the Red Sea, guiding us to our high top with the grace of a seasoned Sherpa. Ricky, our server, deserves her own Netflix series. I’ve never had someone write down my order with such precision.

And then… the salsa. Forget Michelin stars — Chef Reynaldo is out here sprinkling stardust in the pico. One chip and suddenly I understood colors I’d never seen before. My ancestors whispered, “This is why we lived.”

When the entrees arrived, it wasn’t food — it was a symphony. The kind of flavors that make you close your eyes and re-evaluate your life choices. My buddy ordered a bourbon chicken salad that didn’t exist, but Ricky pivoted with the confidence of Tom Brady in the 4th quarter.

By the time a birthday chant broke out, Tanner’s smile radiated so hard I’m pretty sure my vitamin D levels spiked. And just when I thought it couldn’t get better, the local football team walked in. In perfect unison, they showed their patriotism and respect to the lead man of Applebee’s, Tanner. The second they started chanting, the entire place erupted with joy like we had just won the Super Bowl of casual dining.

Listen, Michelin, if you’re reading this — forget Paris. Forget Rome. The culinary capital of the world is Alpena, Michigan. And its crown jewel is an Applebee’s.

Their slogan says, Eatin’ good in the neighborhood. I say, Flavors so powerful they could...

Long before I understood the complexities of fine dining, before I had the vocabulary to articulate the nuances of indulgence, there was the Classic Combo. It was my first love—not in the ephemeral, fleeting way of childhood infatuations, but in the profound, soul-anchoring way that shapes one’s understanding of comfort, of satisfaction, of home.

I remember the first bite as if it were a revelation. The mozzarella stick—its golden, crisp exterior giving way to a molten, velvety core—felt like a whispered promise, a gentle assurance that life, in all its chaos, could still hold moments of pure, uncomplicated joy. The boneless wings, cloaked in their fiery glaze, were passion incarnate—bold, unrelenting, tempered only by the cool caress of ranch. The spinach & artichoke dip was warmth itself, a rich and velvety embrace that lingered long after the last tortilla chip was gone. And then, the quesadilla—simple, unassuming, yet the quiet foundation upon which this symphony of flavors stood.

The Classic Combo was never just an appetizer. It was my initiation into the art of indulgence, a love story written in cheese pulls and tangy sauces, in the shared glances of those gathered around the table, in the way every bite felt like coming home. No matter where I go, no matter what delicacies I may encounter, there will always be a part of me that longs for that first love—the taste of comfort, the taste of Applebee’s, the taste of the...