My parents, grandparents, and great aunt came up this weekend for my college graduation. Because Bowling Green is so limited as far as hotels go, they decided to stay in downtown Toledo. As usual, my parents were not prompt, and overshot their arrival time, getting into Toledo almost an hour later than they had intended. To save time, my Grandpa Al and I went to park the van and find a place to eat. Across the street and down the block was Murphy’s Place, boasting “Great Jazz, Great Jazz.” Now, if anyone knows my family, they know that these two things are a big part of how we live. We thrive on filling our bellies with wonderful food, and feeding our ears great jazz. Naturally, this was Grandpa’s choice, and I seconded it.
Murphy’s Place is located along the Maumee River, in the Fort Industry Square. The building is wonderful (a friend from high school once dated the building manager, and he showed us around during a renovation.) Murphy’s is located in the basement on the corner of the building.
The Jazz: Well, I don’t know if I could call it great, but it was pretty good. The night we were there, the Cakewalkin Jass Band serenaded us, playing a more upbeat, New Orleans style jazz, a style that I rarely hear inside restaurants. It’s not exactly conducive to conversation over dinner with so much brass.
Our waitress was less than friendly to us, but our drinks came out quickly, and she kept them filled, and the food was relatively speedy. At the end of the meal, she asked us if we were planning on staying, and if we were, she was going to ask us to pay the $6/head cover. No thank you!
My beer was really great. It was called Murphy’s Irish Stout (I think?) This was possibly the best part of my dining experience.
The menu was short. There was not a lot of variety, but enough that everyone at the table was served something that we liked. Most of the food was Cajun, and there was also a lot of comfort/homestyle menus items as well (mac and cheese, fried chicken.) There was little on the menu for the lite diner. My brother and I both got a chicken finger dinner, which, for a chicken finger dinner, was very good. The fingers weren’t the processed chicken fingers that many restaurants serve, they seemed to be made fresh, battered, and fried, right in the kitchen. Mom and Grandpa got the jumbalaya, Aunt Anne got blackened chicken salad, and I’m pressed for what Dad and Grandma got…
Judging the restaurant by their slogan, “Great Jazz, Great Food,” I’ll give them a B-. Based on our waitresses unfriendly demeanor, I’m bumping them down to a C+. Maybe it’s because I grew up going to fancy jazz places. Mom and Dad, you raised an elitist. So, go there, or don’t. Maybe check out their calendar and check out an act you really think you’d like.
