The thing I like most about eating in frilly family-style restaurants is that you can still find meals dating back to the days when chicken fried steak was considered no less essential to your growth and well being than a bowl of peas and carrots. Some of the naughtiest foods by today’s culinary standards continue to lurk in these kitchens. And whenever temptation strikes, I justify my visits with the notion: “Live well, eat well, die anyway.”

Such cheap fulfillment was spoiled by regret, however, during a recent foray into the geriatric haunt known as Jimmy’s Restaurant. With respect to our senior population, the grub plays more to the rudiments of a convalescent home than a place where you can supposedly enjoy “top quality food with distinctive desserts” — as stated on the menu.

My dining companion, one of the least finicky eaters I know, showed limited tolerance for our appetizer of fried Zucchini Slices, which came with a blue cheese dip sporting the consistency of Elmer’s Glue and about as much flavor as poi. The zucchini, however, were generously served and relatively greaseless.

Our young, burnt-out waitress became another matter as she quickly demonstrated an inability to think outside the box. My request to substitute French Onion Soup with Navy Bean when ordering an entrée jangled her senses, even after I offered to pay extra for it.

“I’ll have to check with the manager,” she tersely replied.

Perhaps I was being protected because underneath the mantle of melted cheese was a frightening deep-brown broth that tasted as though it contained 100 beef bouillon cubes. A stubborn layer of oil hovering over the liquid helped put the brakes on my spoon.

Little regard was given to meal timing, as my Beef Stew entrée came rushing toward the table only minutes later. But the dish boasted that classic robust flavor I remember as a kid with plenty of tender beef and softened veggies swimming in a smooth, heavy gravy. As for the flattened dinner rolls that came with it — they appeared like two Whoopy cushions after the prank was played out.

My companion’s entrée was a strange attempt at raising the culinary bar on a typical plate of pork chops. It featured two boneless tenderloins that were nicely broiled, but harmed by a watery, acidic sauce infused with oregano, garlic and lemon. A schizophrenic jumble of undercooked carrots and overcooked broccoli stems accompanied the meat, along with real mashed potatoes. It all amounted to a meal better suited for a brief stay in the hospital, we concluded.

Like most casual diners, the menu offers a vast selection of sandwiches, burgers and all-American “blue-plate” specials. Yet I’m always leery when these places start tampering with ethnic foods when they should really be sticking to meatloaf dinners and tuna melts. Here, the menu overextends itself with Mexican and Italian entrees along with a new category of sub sandwiches that seems like a safer bet.

Sadly, we missed out on the more decadent desserts peeking from the front display case since our dinners included only a choice of ice cream or pudding. God forbid I should challenge the waitress for a slice of homemade cheesecake in lieu of my flubbery Tapioca Pudding. I instead found solace in the companion’s luscious, old-fashioned chocolate ice cream, which actually tasted better than those high-end designer brands sold in the grocery stores.

Jimmy’s also offers a full slate of breakfast fare with prices kept below $7 if you come in between 6:00 and 11:00 a.m. on weekdays. And seniors over 55 years old are afforded discounts on select dinner entrees any day of the week. I’m just not so sure this is the place I’ll be flashing my AARP card when it arrives.