Merrick's RS Jones - Rattled and Confused

Now in it's 16th year, the ever-evolving menu at RS Jones (formerly Rattlesnake Jones - the smiling bartender could not explain the name tweak) wants to be as diverse, engaging and eclectic as the funky roadhouse decor that makes the corner location at 153 Merrick Ave. so warm and fun.  Unfortunately, the results are decidedly mixed.

Our very affable and competent server, part of RS Jones' loyal and long standing "Posse," started by recommending Blackened Voodoo; "the Budweiser of the South," which came ice cold with a frosty mug, but was decidedly thicker and sweeter than the King of Beers. It went down smoothly nonetheless. 

The house "Mug O' Rita" was everything a solid Tequila cocktail should be; tart, sizeable and strong - both beverages worked nicely with the complimentary basket of crispy tortilla chips and a fresh (if not somewhat bland) corn & bean salsa fresca that met us at the table.

Fresh, homemade guacamole ($7.95) continued the promising start, also served with crispy chips in a cheery, lotus-esque presentation. The warm wood, soft lights, terrific acoustic blues (both types - "Country and Western!") piped into the room and endless array of vintage Texas themed eye candy, coupled with the simple Border fare that got the dinner going might very well had been enough - and perhaps it should have stopped and started there.

Our server painstakingly recited a long list of specials (we only got our "cheat sheet" after asking for it) which all sounded appealing, but sadly the kitchen failed to back up the rhetoric with culinary results.

The Chain Gang Pork Chops ($18.95); two well-sized center cut chops slow baked in a jalapeno-apple sauerkraut, were moist but bland.  The sauerkraut was a sloppy mess, lacking both the delightful sting of jalapeño or the warm sweetness of baked apple.  It was as if these opposites cancelled each other out, leaving the dish void of personality.  The slow cooking method also created a stringy texture, more pot roast than pork chop.  Perhaps the grill would serve this special better.

The mashed sweet potatoes were thin and loose, lacking muscle.  Brown sugar and butter were both invited to the party together it seemed, but somehow left separately. 

This was a theme that threaded itself through the Mahi Caper ($19.95), served with cheddar gritz.  The white flaky fish was properly prepared; temperature perfect, moist and tender - but it's flavor profile was essentially absent.  The dish description claimed the filet was marinated, but it arrived smothered in a white, indiscernible slather of what appeared to be simply sour cream and capers. 

The dish had zero eye appeal and while the jalapeño zing was present in this sloppy sauce, none of the flavors seemed to meld or intertwine - all were left to stand on their one, ultimately lesser than the sum of their parts.

The same held true for the cheddar gritz, which were wholly underwhelming; copping a similar texture to the mashed sweet potatoes - loose and uninspired.

For the kids, chicken fingers ($5.95) were home prepped, nicely breaded, lightly fried and wonderfully moist.  The mac and cheese ($3.95) was homemade; thick and robust - a hidden highlight.

RS Jones' touts its "Shoo Fly Pie" ($5.95) as a leading dessert, but even this fell short, suffering the same lack of confluence as the entrees.  Molasses and brown sugar were both present - but seemed to want little to do with one another.  Serving it hot with a simple scoop of vanilla and homemade whipped cream managed to somewhat mask its shortcomings.

Despite the flame to table mediocrity - RS Jones delivers on some level.  It is a genuinely cool, rockin' little joint that evokes true authenticity and screams "unique dining experience." Apparently on this night, the kitchen just wasn't hearing the call. Maybe they have the down home, psychedelic pickin' blues of Jorma Kaukonen turned up way loud back there.  If so, I can forgive and forget.