One Hot (summer) Mess
You know you’re in trouble when the best part of the meal is the curdled “she-crab soup”. I put that in quotes because the real she-crab soup is supposed to have crab roe - this didn’t. Just clumps of clotted cream...the only cream of this (rotten) crop.
Drinks, I think? - I ordered the $10 mojito that came in one of those plastic cups you get at the dentist - swish and spit was exactly what came to mind.
No one’s hailing this Caesar = Lettuce, a sprinkle of grated parmesan (from a green can?) and drab, flat dressing. Where were my croutons, damn it?! The waiter told us, “I’ll try to muster some up.” By the sound of it I thought the chef would actually make us some fresh croutons, since they didn’t have any. Nope – he brought back box-cut squares that made me wonder why they weren’t in this $12 salad in the first place.
Clammy No-Neck - Little neck clams should be the size of a dime and sweet morsels of the sea. Instead we got gorilla necks...the kind of neck that would ruin a turtleneck it was so big. Gross. Even grosser was they were also rough necks = no one separated the clam from the shell. I guess that was our job, you lazy mother shuckers.
Fried green beans – How do you ruin a fried treat? Leave it to McCloone's. I’d envisioned the crisp snap of green bean beneath a tempura-esque shell, but instead I realized this glue-based-batter only housed the limp carnage of a canned “used to be” vegetable - the final insult.
Killing me softly - McLoone's is like a guy that looks like he has it all (beachfront seating, low candlelight), an amazing catch, "How could he be single?!"...and then you find a body in his basement. But even the dead would try to escape, as would the summer tourists that might get caught in this trap once, but not again, especially at these prices. McLoone's became a sad stop at what could have easily been the belle of the boardwalk.