It’s been close to 30 years since I last visited the Red Robin at the Marq-E Entertainment Center in Houston. Things were different then. The Dave & Buster’s was a Jillian’s. The LA Fitness was a Vans Skatepark. And Edward’s Cinema was still Edward’s Cinema, but without the Regal.

And yet, Red Robin has remained. The casual burger restaurant chain started in Seattle, Wash. It has since grown to more than 500 locations across the U.S., most of which are company-owned and -operated. There are six Red Robins sprinkled around the Houston area, but it’s more than likely the 7620 Katy Fwy. location is the one you think of first.

Inside, Red Robin has the feel of most casual, sit-in chain restaurants: stock artwork, giant menus, clunky electronic tablets. If you could slap a different brand on there, like an Applebee’s or a Chili’s, I don’t think you would notice the difference. 

My friend and I sat near the bar. Our host was more than friendly, walking us through the large menu of “gourmet burgers and brews.” Our first appetizer was a suspiciously named “queso fundido,” but it really should have been labeled a chorizo con queso. The former is a bubbling, stretch blend of Mexican cheeses. The latter is melted processed cheese. Both are good and yet both are different. Still, the flavors and mild spice were there.

The real show began with the towering onion rings and also-towering bacon double cheeseburger sliders. Both arrived at the table skewered on a metal pole with accompanying accoutrements. In the onion rings’ case, the dipping sauces included ranch or Red Robin’s signature “campfire mayo.” I enjoyed the rings well enough. The batter was crispy, the onions were hot, and the mayo had an enjoyable smoky flavor. The burgers were a miss: The tiny sandwiches had an oily, one note flavor. There were pickles, but they did little to cut through.

But the biggest flop was the cheesy bacon fondue burger. The two-for-one includes a bacon cheeseburger and a cup of what is supposed to be a fondue dipping sauce. It’s not unlike Applebee’s O-M-Cheese, which again shows how casual American dining chains tend to share a common DNA. Like the towering sliders, the burger by itself is an oily, one-note sandwich. And the fondue? As soon as burger hit the “melted” cheese, it collided first with a solidified top layer that just clumped. There was no sauciness, no gooeyness. And whatever there was tasted of Cheez Whiz.

Probably the weirdest part of Red Robin is the restaurant repeatedly alternates between music and Red Robin’s signature slogan, “Red Robin! Yum!” The latter, somehow, reverberates around the walls like some kind of mantra or liturgical utterance.

It’s strange that I left the restaurant feeling so, “Red Robin. Eh,” considering the chain has been experiencing a modest turnaround. In February, the company reported its fiscal 2025 EBITDA (or earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortization) were $69.7 million, up from $45.6 million the previous year. 

I suppose numbers really aren’t everything.