Denny's — Restaurant in Houston

Denny's is the quintessential American experience. As you bite into their bodacious bacon, you hear the proud cry of a bald eagle in the distance. As you lower your knife into their perfect pancakes, you hear the first chords of the Star Spangled Banner. And as you vomit it all back up at 3 in the morning from your perch on the porcelain throne, you hear Morgan Freeman's dulcet voice encouragingly whisper in your ear: "you did good son, you did good".

When I want to reconnect with my inner-American, I dine at Denny's. For Thanksgiving in 2013 and 2014, Denny's invited me in, for both lunch and dinner, and I couldn't help but graciously accept. (I'll also add here that their turkey special is nothing to scoff at, and should slide down into every red-blooded American's stomach at least once in their life)

Dining has never been easier, or better, than at Denny's. You know what you're getting upon arrival, and you can feel proud to be an American upon departure. My first memory was a dining experience at Denny's: I was about six years old (I was a late bloomer), browsing the menu when my eyes alighted themselves upon my first true love: the Lumberjack Slam. Three buttermilk pancakes, two slices of grilled ham, three slices of bacon, two sausage links, two eggs any style, and two slices of American toast. I'll never forget the look of horror on my waitress's face upon my order, and the terrified reply: "Are you sure? I've had grown men unable to finish that". I had only one reply: "They must have been Canadian." I walked (or possibly rolled) out of that Denny's, stuffed and satisfied, having completely finished my first Lumberjack Slam, the first of many.

If you don't dine here, a fundamental aspect of being a citizen of the greatest country in the world is completely lost. As I've been physically unable to squeeze myself out of my corner booth here, I look forward to seeing you...

Terrible service. The to go staff was basically auctioning off to go orders. I could have taken whatever I wanted and just left if I wasn't an honest person. Then I get all the way back to League City to find out the only half my order is in the bag. I call up there to let them know that I'm 15 minutes away and I'm going to come back and get the rest of my order and they repeat the wrong order back to me on the phone. I feel like I could have gone into the restaurant made the food myself and bagged it up faster and more efficiently than the staff did. This is only the second time I've ever written a negative review online because I have been in the restaurant business myself for 20 years. I understand that mistakes are made and sometimes things happen but this was just a terrible experience. I deliver food on the side for extra income and I'm probably in 30 different restaurants a day so for one individual restaurant to stand out amongst the rest it has really make an impression. There were employees smoking in the parking lot when I returned to pick up the item that was left out of the order and even though I called nobody knew anything about it. I was a bartender for 10 years an assistant manager for 5 and a GM for 3 and I can't imagine ever allowing things to get that bad. Not what I would expect from one of the largest breakfast...

Let’s be real — Denny’s is a relic, and that’s exactly why we love (and kinda hate) it. You don’t go to Denny’s expecting a culinary revelation or top-tier service. You go for the nostalgia: Moons Over My Hammy, the Grand Slam, and all the greasy breakfast glory you remember from your childhood. It's the comfort food you didn’t realize you missed… until you're three bites into your soggy hash browns wondering why you came back.

Here’s the thing: Denny’s doesn’t need to be trendy. Stop trying to be hip with neon menus and TikTok-style specials. Nobody is coming here for that. We want the classics, served all day, on those sticky laminated menus. Period.

Now, about the service… yeah, it’s rough. Most of the time, your server looks like they’d rather be anywhere else — and honestly, with all the better-paying restaurants nearby, who can blame them? You're not getting the A-team here. You're getting the burned out, the barely-hanging-on, and every once in a while, a diamond in the rough who still takes pride in pouring your burnt coffee with a smile.

But hey — you didn’t walk through those double doors expecting fine dining. You came for a sad, greasy, comforting version of the breakfast your younger self adored. And in that weird, greasy way, Denny’s...