The buffet at Harrah’s is easily the worst I’ve tried.
Never go here. At $26 for dinner it’s not much cheaper than decent buffets, and it is awful. The selection is meager and the food is bad. When I say it’s the worst I’ve tried, please note that I’ve tried quite a few.
The cocktail shrimp are, as you’d expect, unpeeled. The crab legs served hot, but overcooked to the point of ruination, as if they were boiled. When you break them open, the meat breaks right along with the now-softened shell, making them almost impossible to eat, and the meat is rubbery and flavorless when you do get some out.
The taco station looks promising, with soft flour and corn tortillas and plenty of garnishes—but looks can be deceiving. The tortillas taste like dry flour, the only meat offered is some weird chicken concoction, the rice tastes like it came from a box, the beans are too bland to even have come from a can, and the sauces are about as inspiring as ketchup. There are little pre-made sopes that are a tiny bit better but still bland.
At the carving station, you can get medium-well prime rib that’s so tough it’s difficult to cut with the table knife, and has all the flavor of a hockey puck. Also on offer are dry and flavorless roasted turkey and ham.
The macaroni and cheese tastes exactly like school-cafeteria mac-n-cheese, the baked beans taste like nothing, and the popcorn shrimp, usually a crowd-pleaser, were greasy and bad. The mashed potatoes—well, they were actually pretty good. I think everyone knows how to make mashed potatoes.
After sampling the whole buffet, I was still hungry and there was nothing I cared to eat. Out of desperation, I made my way to the salad bar and made myself a nice salad. That’s right: I was at the buffet and I made a goddamn salad. You never make a salad at the buffet; it’s a waste of perfectly good calories. That’s how bad the food is here.
Not even the dessert section can redeem the Harrah’s buffet. The selection is meager and the quality is low. Even the soft-serve ice cream is terrible; the machine was set wrong, or something, and it was half-melted before I even got it back to my table. The mini-cupcakes are so bonded to the little paper wrappers that I was unable to unwrap them without destroying them.
You’ll be happier eating at McDonald’s than at this miserable place. Just say no.