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The following is an incomplete, biased and possibly inaccurate review of the Horseshoe Casino, Cleveland.
I've heard that parking can run you upwards of $30 unless you join some miserable casino rewards club and gamble so much and do all this stuff no one in their right mind can figure out in order to get a discount.
Just drive to a park-n-ride (parking is free) and take the Rapid Transit to Tower City. Train tickets are $2.25 one way (um ... winning).
Pardon my crappy photographs, but I was under severe limitations. You are allowed to have a camera in the casino, but you are not allowed to take photos of people you don't know or the tables. I guess if you try, they make a cast of your hand and use it as a wall decoration in the buffet dining room (dunno if the cams in this pic came from past misbehavin' photographers or not):
The joint is (thankfully) without a theme other than glitz/swank, although there are nods to Cleveland all around--perhaps most notably in the small food court, which has a B-spot Burger by Michael Symon (but you can't get bourbon in your milkshake at this location), a Corky and Lenny's and Rocco Whalen's Rosie & Rocco's .
No free boozin' here, Boppers. The cheapest potent potable will run you $4 for a draft beer. Well drinks are $5. Top shelf pours at $9. I didn't check bottled beer prices in between. Soft drinks are free.
The bathrooms are gorgeous, with faucets nicer than the ones in my house. Way nicer. And the motion thingies worked pretty well.
Hey, Audrey, can you figger these newfangled slots? Me neither. Come on. There's a roulette table with a $10 minimum. Or we could try our luck at black jack, but that's gonna run us $15 a pop.
Damn. There is not one open seat at the lower minimum tables. Aw, to hell with it. Let's get something to eat.
I honestly could not tell if the mashed spuds were fresh or from a mix. The fries were pretty good, but no match for what you get fresh from the fryer under the Golden Arches.
I didn't try the ham hocks, egg salad sliders or mussels, but Kudos to whomever decided to offer up something a lil' different.
Pizza and pasta? Yup. Didn't try it, but it looked pretty good.
|Egg salad sliders|
The General Tso chicken=soggy McNuggets in an oversalted sauce. Avoid.
The BLT salad was fresh enough, but a tad overdressed. And hell if I could find any "T" in there.
The smoked brisket (carvery) was good, albeit a little dry. Then again, it was the very end of the cut and I probably should have opted for a splash of au jus. Shame on me.
|Dressed baby iceberg wedges.|
The way they've sectioned the huge dining room somehow makes it cozy. Well done.
No hard liquor down at the buffet, but you can order beer and wine. The one all-you-can-eat price is ... $13? ... $15? Who the hell knows? It was very reasonable considering the selection. You get a discount if you join the silly casino club. The Goat did join (silly Goat) and the bill for the two of us was $30.
Oh--tip the waitress for chrissake. And since we're here. Every. Single. Horseshoe. Staff. Member. Was. Charming.
In all seriousness, we had a blast at the buffet. The trick is to get little tiny bites of several different things and save room to share a few deserts.
HEY HORSESHOE MANAGEMENT PUT YOUR EARS ON:
That the only people who are allowed to use this direct entrance from Tower City (where the trains let out) into your casino are the upper-crust card-holders in your silly club is SHITTY AND LAME.
Making everyone else go outside (which yesterday=pouring rain) in order to pour money into your tight-ass slot machines gets one BIG ASS FAIL.
One other thing: Ya'll went to a lot of trouble to make this place look swank and then you put your poor cocktail waitresses in dresses that look like they came out of the bargain bin at Woolworth's on the day after Halloween. Come on already. Those girls are hustling tips. Put 'em in something that's got a bit of style.
Yeah, yeah. All in all, I had a pretty good time. Loved the roulette guy and the black jack dealer was darling, if a bit inexperienced.
But you haven't seen the last of me. After all, I'll be back to cash this mother effer in:
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