Remember that time when taking someone to dinner at a place with cloth napkins and dim lighting was the ultimate way to impress? Yeah, well, my teenage granddaughter recently informed me that those same restaurants are now “cringe.” Her exact words, not mine.

The generational dining divide hit me like a ton of bricks last month when I suggested taking the whole family to Olive Garden for my wife’s birthday. The looks I got from the younger crowd? You’d think I’d suggested we eat at a retirement home cafeteria. Which got me thinking about all the places my generation considers special that younger folks wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot breadstick.

1. Olive Garden

When did unlimited breadsticks become a bad thing? For boomers, Olive Garden represents that sweet spot between fast food and fine dining. It’s where we went for prom, anniversaries, and big family celebrations. The fake Tuscan villa vibe? We loved it.

But Gen Z sees right through the “when you’re here, you’re family” schtick. They’d rather grab authentic Italian from that hole-in-the-wall place run by an actual Italian grandmother. Or better yet, they’ll order from three different places on DoorDash and create their own Italian feast at home. The kicker? They’re probably spending the same amount we would at Olive Garden, just differently.

2. Red Lobster

Those cheddar bay biscuits used to be the height of sophistication for us landlocked folks. Going to Red Lobster meant you were having a fancy seafood dinner, complete with that little bib they give you for the lobster.

Today’s young adults? They’re watching TikToks about which seafood is sustainably sourced and finding food trucks that serve better fish tacos for half the price. The whole nautical theme that we found charming? They find it about as authentic as a Pirates of the Caribbean ride.

3. Applebee’s

“Eating good in the neighborhood” was more than just a slogan for us. Applebee’s was where the whole community gathered. Date night meant splitting that sampler platter and having a couple of drinks from their extensive cocktail menu.

But mention Applebee’s to anyone under 30 and watch them physically recoil. They’ve turned it into a meme. The microwave jokes alone could fill a comedy special. They want farm-to-table, not freezer-to-microwave-to-table. Can’t say I blame them, but those half-price appetizers after 9 PM got us through some tight budget years.

4. Ruby Tuesday

That salad bar was revolutionary when it first came out. All-you-can-eat fresh vegetables? Sign us up! We felt healthy and indulgent at the same time. The dark wood paneling and booth seating felt upscale without being stuffy.

Gen Z wouldn’t know what to do with a salad bar if it hit them in the face. They’re concerned about people breathing on the food, using the same serving utensils, and the general chaos of it all. Plus, they can get a customized salad bowl delivered to their door in 20 minutes. Why would they drive to Ruby Tuesday?

5. Cheesecake Factory

How is a menu the size of a novel a bad thing? We saw it as variety, options for everyone, a place where the whole family could find something they liked. Those massive portions meant leftovers for days. The cheesecake selection alone was worth the trip.

Young people open that menu and have an anxiety attack. They’ve got something called “decision fatigue” now. They want curated menus with five perfect options, not 250 mediocre ones. And don’t get me started on their horror at the calorie counts. We just didn’t look at those. Problem solved.

6. Chili’s

Baby back ribs and loaded potato skins were our idea of a good time. The southwestern décor, the sizzling fajitas passing by your table, that volcano cake for dessert. What’s not to love?

Apparently, everything if you’re Gen Z. They mock the “I want my baby back” jingle. They share horror stories about the sticky floors and tables. They’d rather go to an authentic taqueria where they might actually have to use their high school Spanish. The authenticity matters more to them than the convenience of picture menus and English-speaking servers.

7. TGI Friday’s

Friday’s was the original good time restaurant. The flair on the walls, the energetic atmosphere, those loaded potato skins. It was where you went to celebrate making it to the weekend. We didn’t need Instagram-worthy plating. We needed mozzarella sticks and a good time.

But Gen Z wants experiences, not just meals. They want to eat somewhere they can post about, somewhere with a story, somewhere that doesn’t exist in every strip mall across America. They’re choosing the local gastropub with craft cocktails over Friday’s Jack Daniel’s sauce every single time.

Here’s what really gets me though. Last week, I took my 14-year-old grandson to lunch, just the two of us. I let him pick the place. We ended up at this tiny ramen shop where we sat at a communal table and had to order from our phones. No printed menus, no dedicated server, definitely no salad bar.

But you know what? The food was incredible. Like, really incredible. And watching him explain the different types of broth to me, seeing how excited he got about the perfectly soft-boiled egg, it reminded me that maybe it’s not about where we eat. It’s about who we’re eating with.

My generation valued consistency, familiarity, and portion size. We wanted to know exactly what we were getting. These chain restaurants delivered that in spades. They were safe choices for business lunches, first dates, and family gatherings.

This younger generation values authenticity, sustainability, and experiences. They’d rather take a chance on that new fusion place than play it safe at a chain. They care about the story behind their food, not just the taste.

Final thoughts

Are these generational dining differences really that surprising? We grew up with TV dinners and casseroles. They grew up with food blogs and cooking shows that taught them what real carbonara should taste like. We were impressed by quantity. They’re impressed by quality.

Sometimes I miss the simplicity of knowing that every Applebee’s would have the same menu and the same atmosphere. But I’m learning to appreciate my grandkids’ approach to dining too. Even if it means I need to squint at QR code menus and pretend I understand what “deconstructed” means.