There are times when Munch likes to linger over a quiet dinner, sipping wine and sharing the events of the day with Dear One of Munch (DOOM).

This is not even close to possible at Red Robin, a restaurant billed as America's Gourmet Burgers and Spirits, a restaurant that Munch believes was designed for the growing population of Americans who have Attention Deficit Disorder.

Red Robin is the perfect place to take kids -- it is so loud there that a toddler could have a complete screaming meltdown and no one would notice. And so, voluntarily, Munch and DOOM packed two Munchkins into car seats and headed to Homestead where the parking is plentiful and the restaurants are large.

We tried to be the early birds at Red Robin, but even then there was a 40-minute wait for a table. There were two things in the lobby to entertain us: a television in the floor, which all of us stared at and the 2-year-old Munchkin tried to kill by jumping on it; and the gifted son of another diner who was able to release a helium balloon under an air-conditioning vent so that it would get caught in the current and appear to dance.

Our party was called, and we were shown back to a booth where the two Munchkins were given balloons, crayons and kids' menus on which they could color. The children's menu contains complete dinners for $4.29. Our 4-year-old dining companion chose the Red Robin Burger with steak fries. The toddler had the Cheesey Mac 'N Cheesey (the name alone was enough to turn off Munch), which was served with two slices of cantaloupe.

The decor was from the "throw as much crap on the wall as you can" school of interior design. Munch did note that they missed a small spot over the signs for the restroom. The "art" on the wall included a huge American flag made of red, white and blue baseballs, a beefcake photo of Jason Alexander, a huge neon Red Robin sign and photos of actors playing cowboys. Televisions also figure prominently in the decor, even in the bathroom, which was kind of creepy.

The noise was incredible. Though the TVs were silent (and playing a sports documentary that clearly needed narration), the restaurant had an overlay of music that was rendered unrecognizable because of a lack of any materials that are sound absorbent.

Munch had heard that though the shakes were $4 ($3.99, actually) they were wonderful. Munch had heard right. Munch and DOOM each ordered a shake and split it with one of the little ones. DOOM, who claims to be a connoisseur of all things vanilla, noted that both her vanilla shake and Munch's chocolate were flavorful without being overly sweet. The chocolate was not too chocolaty (as if that's possible). The shake also was thick -- but not so thick to prevent drinking it through a straw. It even had the fabulous slurp finish of the classic diner milkshake. Once again, the din of the place paid off as Munch was able to slurp unrepentantly.

The menu features a tower of onion rings stacked on a spike, but Munch was afraid someone could put an eye out that way. So, DOOM ordered the turkey burger, which can be easily rendered into an edible version of a hockey puck, but it was cooked just right.

Munch went with the sh'room burger, which arrived with a diaper on it. The burger itself was terrific, cooked through, not dry, the sauteed mushrooms were dripping and there was a garlic parmesan butter on the bun. The diaper was a triangle of paper that Munch figured was to hold the burger together, at least for the first half of eating it, then it fell apart as soon as the paper was unwrapped.

Both burgers were served with "bottomless" steak fries, but we didn't finish what was on our plates so more fries were not forthcoming. Not that we wanted them anyway. The fries weren't the main event in a place where the burger and shakes certainly took the starring roles.