Southtown Bar and Grill is located at the end of a vacated strip mall at the edge of town. It’s the kind of place that when you walk in you are likely the youngest person there by at least 20 years. Don’t be fooled by their website, which by the look of it could lead one to believe they were about to dine at a hip new Miami restaurant. The truth is it has all the fixins’ of a great dive bar: greasy food, cheesy logo, and Blue Moon as their most adventurous beer on tap. After a few of their menu choices this place even has written, “Pairs well with Bud Light”. (Is it a joke? I am not sure but it makes me smile every time I think about it). Needless to say we were excited at this restaurant’s potential and quaint sense of self.

We strolled in during the off hours on a Friday afternoon. You know the setting: empty establishment, Judge Judy on TV in the background, faint laughter from the kitchen staff due to the service lull. We bellied up to the bar and ordered our usual.

This is the kind of place that doesn’t mess around so I won’t either: if this was your grandma’s recipe you would get really good at finding a napkin to cover what was left in the bowl. I half hoped a dog would walk in so I could feed it. The cook must not believe in seasonings of any kind. Maybe the thought process during this recipe was to keep it natural? Natural as in unseasoned, unsweetened raw ingredients. The only excuse I can imagine is this scenario: this chili was made by an assembly line. First in was the ground beef, celery, tomatoes, and beans plopped into a heated water pot to move along a conveyor belt. Then, all of sudden, alarms sound and red lights flash throughout the plant and the whole system stops. The foreman is shouting, line workers quit, and chaos ensues. By the time the factory is back up and running some pots of “pre-chili” slip through the cracks. Those pots missed out on the seasoning, spices, and even the secret ingredient. The taste testers left the line and it mistakenly went out as “pre-chili”, packaged and onto the truck without second thought. (You can tell I am well versed in the inner workings of a food plant). Sadly this was the dish that was placed in front of us that lazy Friday afternoon. The fact of the matter is that you can’t even offend this chili by calling it “basic”. To me this dish doesn’t have even enough clout to be on the table – it simply was not a complete meal.

And you know what? It probably would pair well with a Bud Light – the beer would just be the tastier of the two.

Official Breggie Score: 4.9