The Melting Pot

Can anybody explain to me why I'd want to spend 100 bucks to cook my own dinner? I'm not a trained chef. I don't know what I'm doing. The main purpose for eating out is so you can have your food cooked for you by somebody who, presumably, knows what he or she is doing. Don't just give me a bowl of hot oil and a platter of raw food. Why is this appealing? Why is this considered fun? Why is this considered, dare I say it, gourmet dining?
If you haven't been to the The Melting Pot and enjoyed the forced, socially-awkwardness of preparing your own fondue, consider yourself lucky. Now, don't get me wrong, fondue in and of itself is all well and good. I used to live in Switzerland, even, so I have something of an appreciation for the cuisine. But that's in my own home, or perhaps even with a gathering of friends and family. Why would anybody go to a fondue restaurant? That'd be like if I took my dog to a daycare place that didn't feed him and made me clean up his poo. That wouldn't make any sense. That defies the purpose of doggy day care! Well, cooking my own food defies the purpose of a restaurant, I say!
Maybe I'm being unromantic. Maybe I'm being a wet blanket. But, if so, I'm in good company because even though the Melting Pot inexplicably has locations across the country, I've never met anybody who actually recommends it. You know why? Because they charge you 100 dollars to cook your own food. Maybe you don't have your own fondue set. Go to Ikea and pick up some pots and skewers for twenty bucks. Then go to the store and buy some meat and cheese and oil. Then, after dinner, count all the money you saved by not going to the Melting Pot.
Ok, Donald, so you've made it clear how you hate the very concept of the Melting Pot, but what about the execution? How do you like their food? Their food is crap. They have a variety of different flavored oils to choose from, all of which taste like oil. Put all the saffron and rosemary you want into a fondue pot and my steak is still going to taste like it was cooked in a vat of grease. So whether or not you get the low grade chuck or the filet mignon, that little chunk of meat is going to taste bland and oily and gross, as though somebody else has put it in their mouth and then spat it our on your plate.
But what about the cheese and chocolate fondues? Marginally better. I mean, you can did anything in chocolate or cheese and it's going to taste good. But, again, I don't need to spend 100 dollars for something drenched in cheese or chocolate. I can just buy a snickers bar and some nachos.
So, basically, the Melting Pot has survived this long because there are that many guys in this country who want to get laid. That's all I can figure. They must assume a fondue place will help their chances in impressing their dates. And they certainly are right that it will bring them closer, since they'll spend the rest of the night bonding over how much they hated dinner. Or, if you're a fondue lover who hates the clean up afterward, maybe I could see the appeal of eating at the Melting Pot. But, for me, there is nothing in the world that can make me want to eat in a restaurant that serves you a giant platter or raw meat and expects you to pay them for it.
Disgusting.
1.5 out of 5