Place: Applebee's
Item: Riblets basket
Price: $7.49

Our lunch hour is made up of 60 precious minutes, so we Lunch Guys just can't afford to spend 10 of them studying Applebee's boisterous bistro mega menu. Instead, we zero in on the little apple icon -- “Applebee's Signatures” -- and anything called “our famous so-and-so.”

That's how we ordered up the Applebee's Riblets, the best of the best that this franchise has to offer, available in a downsized basket version perfect for lunch. These rib tips have been a popular staple here for years, so we were eager to dig in for a saucy, sloppy lunch. But were we still smiling by the time we broke out the wet naps?

Tom: Somehow I have memories of good Riblets at Applebee's. Maybe it was late-night beer that clouded my vision because when I visited with lunch-hour focus, the Riblets' shortcomings were crystal clear. If this is Applebee's signature item, it's poor penmanship. The Riblets are virtually inedible -- unless you consider something obscenely fatty with a dull smoke taste and rubbery texture a good lunch. Halfway through the dish I found myself singing the Chili's baby-back rib song trying to

Riblets basket and the “after” photo would be practically indistin-guishable. The edible-to-inedible ratio was seriously out of whack. So all that work foraging for food, and my stomach had almost nothing to show for it. Thank goodness I got some sustenance from the barbecue-sauce-splashed fries -- and that palate-cleansing apple you dropped of at my desk that afternoon, Tom. Curse my slow-witted brain for not asking our server, “Well, what are the Riblets famous for?”

Tom: Chris, don't blame the tips themselves. Rib tips by nature are slim pickin's -- kind of like chicken wings. Great tips exists, just not at Applebee's. And since their sauce can't carry these Riblets into the “good for lunch” category, the best tip is to never, never, ever again say, “I'll have the Riblets.”

Chris: True, I have a bias against rib tips, but wouldn't we all be happier if they were sent back to the factory and ground up for hot dogs? While this Riblet train wreck still isn't enough to scare me off Applebee's, since the menu is still strong for lunch, I'm going to stick to the bone-free items from here on out.

Rating: Zero sporks (out of 5)

Food Facts: Don't ask.

E-mail The Lunch Guys:
tomandchris@thelunchguys.com

teleport something better to my plate. Rib tips should have loads of flavor. These didn't. The sauces, “signature” and honey, taste pretty much the same: bland and bland.

I thought maybe we got a bad batch, but since the waiter confirmed my hunch about how they cook these -- smoke them, then finish them off on the grill -- I have to think they are all going to be this way. What rib tips need is more time over the open flame the way the soul shacks in Chicago do them.

Chris: If my records are correct, this is the first lunch I've ever eaten where I felt like a vulture. There I was, an ugly scavenger bird picking over a pig -- all the good stuff was gone and these three Riblets strips were what was left. As I nibbled and gnawed on the poker-chip bones, each bite fell into one of three categories: a smidgeon that tasted vaguely meat-like, a globule that frighteningly melded the textures of gristle and tapioca, and an unmentionable that I spit into my swelling napkin.

The worst part is (yes, it does get worse), the “before” photo of my