Texas Roadhouse Fayetteville

You walk in, peanut shells crunch under your feet, a country song is playing at a volume that makes conversation optional, and somewhere on the table is a laminated card with eight to twelve wines on it. This is not a wine program — it is a wine placeholder. The list exists so the restaurant can say it has one.

The selection reads like the bottom shelf of a grocery store wine aisle, and not in a charming way. Woodbridge by Robert Mondavi, Sutter Home White Zinfandel, and Kendall-Jackson Vintner's Reserve Chardonnay are the headliners — all recognizable names, all mass-produced, all optimized for margin rather than merit. There is no regional exploration, no small producers, no attempt to complement the hand-cut steaks with something that could actually stand up to them. California is the only region represented, and even then it's the California of airport kiosks and hotel minibars.

There are somewhere between eight and twelve pours available by the glass, which sounds like a reasonable number until you realize they are all pulling from the same shallow pool of supermarket staples. Rotation appears to be nonexistent — this list is set, laminated, and forgotten. If you are hoping for something interesting by the glass, order a margarita instead; Texas Roadhouse is genuinely better at those.