Almost heaven sent at T.G.I. Friday's

Epicurus felt some pangs last Friday afternoon before sitting down with assembled companions at the aptly chosen T.G.I. Friday's. Not stirrings of hunger, which have, unfortunately, become increasingly difficult to recognize, so much as ones of guilt.

Even Sheryl Crow's comforting refrain if it makes you happy, it can't be that bad, beckoning as if on cue from the sound system, failed to assuage the feeling of abject wrongdoing. Easy for Sheryl to say, kept fighting fit by her entourage of personal trainers and chefs.

You may remember that there had been a pledge of gastronomic reform just a few weeks ago, a promise to bid adieu to the nutritionally lacking for healthier dietary choices. But the vow, so sincere at the time, had gone asunder somewhere in all the tumultuous events of the past month or so. Procrastination may be the best friend of the weak-willed, but it just did not seem the appropriate time to embark on a spartan food regimen.

Which was why we had opted for T.G.I. Friday's, on the ground floor of the Ascott apartment building on Jl. Kebon Kacang Raya. The eatery was perceived as providing a convergence of the nutritional lines of good-tasting and good-for-you.

Or, to borrow another mathematical metaphor, straddling the Venn diagrams of wicked temptations -- nine-layer dip, hamburgers, steaks, rich desserts -- there was a mitigating intersection of the vegetarian Friday's Gardenburger, assorted salads, fajitas, and grilled fish and fowl.

It may be appropriate at this point to backtrack to Epicurus and party's arrival at the eatery and decision on a table venue. We were initially ushered to the elevated section near the bar, but quickly reconsidered after taking two factors into account.

The prospect of sitting on high stools was not appetizing, and one of our group, who had eaten at the restaurant before, claimed there had been a distinctive "trembling" of the floor in the bar area. Despite the manager's protestations that this was in her imagination, we assembled in an investigative circle and confirmed that, yes, there was indeed an odd rumbling.

We chose instead a small corner table surrounded by the trappings of feel-good Americana: football jerseys, place signs, assorted knickknacks and, joltingly, a gravestone (end of the American Dream, perchance?). The servers were pleasant, and their uniform -- black leg-ins and red-and-white blouse, scarf and hat -- may be faithful to the original New York restaurant's colors, but can not fail to give the appearance of walking candy canes.

We set about ordering. Appetizers were Friday's Three for All, a combination of potato skins, fried mozzarella and buffalo wings, plus a separate order of onion rings. No complaints on the wings and skins (which, incidentally, T.G.I. Friday's lays claim to having "invented"), and the mozzarella, breaded in spices, was a pleasant novelty for the non-Americans among us. Same went for the onion rings, which were in a light batter and not too greasy.

A little more restraint would probably have been prudent in our choice of appetizers as most of us were full when our entrees arrived. Unfortunately, there was no gardenburger and, apparently, hasn't been for months due to some supply problem.

We chose the grilled chicken wrapper, consisting of grilled chicken breast wrapped in wheat flat bread and served with cucumber, feta cheese, black olives and lettuce; a spinach and feta pizzadilla of spinach, feta, mozzarella and Monterey Jack cheeses; blackened chicken Alfredo; and mushrooms, chicken and mushrooms, a combination of deep-fried chicken smothered in mozzarella cheese with sauteed mushrooms plus fried mushrooms.

All told, quite a mouthful and one which we could not do justice to after the filling starters. While the regulation American diner fare may not win plaudits from more finicky diners among us, it was good tasting and enjoyable. Minor gripes: a liberal use of the salt shaker was detected in many of the dishes, and service was a tad erratic.

That said, we had enjoyed our lavish lunch out. The total came to just over Rp 160,000, which included soft drinks (with complimentary refills of coke, ample to satisfy any "coke" addict), iced tea, coffee, mineral water, and a luscious slice of mocha mud pie shared between the four of us. It may have been a sinful indulgence but, with an appreciative nod to Sheryl, it had made us happy and it wasn't that bad.

-- Epicurus