6 New Jersey Buffets That Let You Down & 6 That Seriously Overdeliver
Ah, the all-you-can-eat buffet – that glorious temple of endless food where dreams are made or shattered with each plate.
As a lifelong Jersey resident with an embarrassingly elastic waistband, I’ve sampled more Garden State buffets than I care to admit.
Some left me questioning my life choices while others had me plotting my return before I’d even finished dessert.
Ready for the unvarnished truth about where to spend (or save) your buffet dollars in the Garden State?
1. Fortune Buffet (Toms River): A Disappointing Treasure Hunt
My last visit to Fortune Buffet felt like an archaeological dig where the artifacts weren’t worth keeping. The crab rangoon had clearly been sitting under the heat lamp since the Bush administration, and the texture reminded me of cardboard that had been left out in the rain.
The sushi selection looked like it had been prepared by someone who’d only seen sushi in a magazine once. Rolls were falling apart faster than my motivation to try another bite. Even the ice cream machine was temperamental, spitting out something closer to milk than actual dessert.
Staff members seemed to be playing an elaborate game of hide-and-seek with empty serving trays. When food did appear, it arrived with all the enthusiasm of a teenager being asked to clean their room. Save your fortune and eat elsewhere.
2. Hibachi Grill (Mays Landing): Where Expectations Go To Catastrophe
Remember that time you got socks for Christmas when you were hoping for a PlayStation? That’s the Hibachi Grill experience in a nutshell. I arrived with visions of sizzling meats and left with the taste of disappointment lingering longer than their MSG.
The hibachi station, supposedly the star attraction, featured a lone cook moving with all the enthusiasm of a sloth on sedatives. My steak resembled shoe leather that had been briefly introduced to heat, while the vegetables had that distinctive freezer-burned flavor profile that no amount of soy sauce could mask.
The dessert section consisted primarily of gelatinous mysteries and fruit that had seen better days – possibly in another decade. For a place with ‘Hibachi’ in its name, they’ve mastered the art of extinguishing all culinary flames of hope.
3. Bon Buffet (Maywood): Neither Bon Nor Beautiful
The irony of naming this place ‘Bon’ wasn’t lost on me as I poked suspiciously at what was allegedly General Tso’s chicken. The sauce had separated into mysterious layers, like a science experiment gone wrong in a middle school classroom.
Walking through the buffet line felt like touring an abandoned food museum. Half the stations sat empty, while others featured dishes so overcooked they’d achieved a remarkable uniformity of beige. The crab legs—the supposed crown jewel—were so waterlogged they squirted across the table when I attempted to crack one open.
A family at the next table was playing ‘guess that food’ with concerning difficulty. The salad bar lettuce had achieved that translucent quality that signals it’s one day away from becoming compost. My fortune cookie simply read ‘Better luck elsewhere’—or at least it should have.
4. Clifton Buffet: The Land That Fresh Forgot
Located near the Costco in Clifton, this buffet has mastered the art of mediocrity. My plate of lo mein looked like it had been styled by someone whose only instruction was ‘make it beige.’ The noodles had fused together into a single architectural structure that could probably withstand severe weather events.
The sushi chef appeared to be in an existential crisis, mechanically placing rice balls topped with mystery fish onto the conveyor with the enthusiasm of someone filing taxes. I watched in horror as a child used the chocolate fountain as a hand-washing station while his parents studied their phones intently.
The highlight was watching a manager argue with a customer about whether crab sticks actually contain crab (spoiler alert: they don’t). Even the fortune cookies tasted stale, as if they’d absorbed the general atmosphere of disappointment that permeated the entire establishment.
5. Garden Buffet (Quakertown): Where Vegetables Go To Punish You
Technically in Pennsylvania but close enough to the Jersey border to lure unsuspecting Garden State residents, Garden Buffet is where my food expectations went to die. The name suggests a verdant paradise of fresh produce, but reality delivered vegetables so overcooked they were practically begging for mercy.
The mashed potatoes had developed a skin thick enough to use as a Halloween mask, while the gravy had separated into distinct geological layers. I watched an elderly man poke suspiciously at the ‘fresh’ fish, which stared back with cloudy eyes that seemed to whisper ‘save yourself.’
A child at the next table was building an impressive fort with stale dinner rolls, which honestly seemed like their best possible use. The ice cream machine sputtered and wheezed like an asthmatic dragon before delivering a substance that defied the laws of dairy physics. Cross the border back to Jersey for your buffet needs.
6. Fresh Harvest Buffet (Atlantic City): Casino Catastrophe
Nothing says ‘we’ve given up’ quite like the Fresh Harvest Buffet at Atlantic City. The name ‘Fresh Harvest’ is the biggest gamble in the casino, as I’m pretty sure I recognized some of the same dishes from my visit last year. The prime rib carving station featured a gentleman who sliced meat with all the precision of someone chopping firewood with a spatula.
The seafood station—allegedly their specialty—offered shrimp so rubbery they could bounce back to the ocean if dropped. I watched in morbid fascination as the crab legs were refilled with specimens so scrawny they looked like they’d died of natural causes after a long, full life.
A nearby tourist asked if the clam chowder was supposed to have that distinct layer of oil floating on top. The dessert section featured an impressive array of items that all somehow tasted exactly the same. Save your chips for the blackjack table instead.
7. Borgata Buffet (Atlantic City): Jackpot Of Flavors
Holy mother of buffets! The Borgata doesn’t just raise the bar—it launches it into the stratosphere. Last month, I witnessed a man nearly weep with joy at the carving station when the chef handed him a slice of prime rib so perfectly medium-rare it practically mooed seductively.
The seafood section features crab legs thicker than my forearm, and I once watched a woman construct what can only be described as a shellfish skyscraper on her plate. The sushi chefs work with the precision of neurosurgeons, creating pieces that would make Tokyo proud.
Unlike other casino buffets that feel like punishment for gambling losses, this place is worth the trip even if you never set foot on the gaming floor. Their dessert section should require a separate admission fee—I still dream about their crème brûlée with the perfect glass-like sugar crust. This is where diet plans go to die gloriously.
8. Fresh Harvest Buffet (Hard Rock Hotel, AC): Rock Star Dining Experience
Not to be confused with its disappointing namesake elsewhere in AC, the Fresh Harvest at Hard Rock Hotel delivers a performance worthy of a standing ovation. Their breakfast spread had me contemplating whether it would be socially acceptable to camp overnight just to be first in line the next morning.
The made-to-order omelet station is manned by a chef who flips eggs with the showmanship of a Benihana veteran on espresso. I’ve seen business meetings completely derailed by their waffle station, where grown adults suddenly revert to wide-eyed children when faced with the topping selection.
During dinner service, their seafood station features crab legs so meaty they could star in their own fitness commercial. The dessert section should come with a warning label – I once missed a concert because I couldn’t tear myself away from their chocolate fountain experience. Like any good rock concert, you’ll leave exhausted but planning your next visit.
9. Raku AYCE Sushi & Japanese Buffet (Cherry Hill): Sushi Paradise Found
Forget everything you thought you knew about all-you-can-eat sushi places. Raku isn’t serving those sad, pre-made rolls that taste like refrigerated disappointment. My first visit, I skeptically ordered three rolls, planning to bail if they were subpar—two hours later, I was contemplating whether I could fit in just one more dragon roll.
The sushi chefs work with lightning precision, crafting each order fresh while you watch through the open kitchen. Their specialty rolls contain actual chunks of fresh fish instead of those microscopic fragments that require an electron microscope to locate.
Beyond sushi, their hot food stations feature tempura so light it might float off your plate if you don’t eat it quickly enough. I once brought my sushi-snob friend from Manhattan who arrived with arched eyebrows and left with plans to move to Cherry Hill. The green tea ice cream provides the perfect finale to what can only be described as a religious experience for fish lovers.
10. Mount Holly International Buffet: Global Gastronomy That Delivers
Who would have thought culinary heaven would be tucked between a dollar store and a laundromat in Mount Holly? This unassuming spot serves up an international feast that had me planning my next visit before I’d even paid the check.
Their hibachi station features a chef who tosses shrimp with the precision of an Olympic javelin thrower, often landing them directly into waiting mouths to thunderous applause. The taco station—yes, a TACO STATION—offers handmade tortillas that would make your abuela weep with pride.
I once witnessed two strangers become best friends over their mutual appreciation for the bulgogi beef. The dessert section features a rotating selection of international sweets that have me regularly checking my calendar for their legendary baklava days. Don’t be fooled by the modest exterior—this place is the United Nations of deliciousness where every country’s cuisine gets proper respect.
11. Picnic Garden (Edison): Korean BBQ Heaven
Picnic Garden isn’t just a meal—it’s a three-hour commitment to meat-based bliss that’ll leave you smelling like a delicious campfire for days. My first visit, I made the rookie mistake of filling up on their banchan (side dishes) before the main event even began—a decision I still regret three years later.
Each table features a built-in grill where you become both diner and chef, sizzling paper-thin slices of marinated beef that curl and caramelize before your eyes. The servers appear like meat ninjas just as your grill starts to look empty, silently replenishing your protein supply with a knowing nod.
Their spicy pork belly has ruined all other pork for me—I’ve tried to recreate it at home and nearly set off the smoke alarms while my neighbors called to ask if everything was okay. Even the complimentary tea served at the end somehow tastes like it was blessed by ancient Korean spirits. Come hungry, wear loose pants, and prepare for meat sweats of joy.
12. Umi Hotpot Sushi & Seafood Buffet (Deptford): Triple Threat Champion
The first time I visited Umi, I thought I’d died and gone to seafood heaven. My dining companion had to physically restrain me from hugging the manager after I tasted their snow crab legs—sweet, tender morsels that seemed to have been teleported directly from Alaskan waters to my plate.
The hotpot section features broths so rich and complex you’ll want to request the recipe (I did—they politely declined). You haven’t lived until you’ve watched thinly sliced beef transform before your eyes in their spicy Szechuan broth, emerging seconds later as perfectly cooked, flavor-infused morsels.
Their sushi station doesn’t play second fiddle either—the dragon roll actually looks like a dragon, complete with eel “scales” and cucumber “whiskers.” I once witnessed a child mistake the dessert section for a magical fairyland, and honestly, the kid wasn’t wrong. This triple-threat buffet handles each cuisine with equal expertise—a rare feat that keeps me making the drive from North Jersey regularly.