Time for the third diner to weigh in.
I didn’t have the 75-day; I had the 40. And while it was an excellent steak, I’m not prepared to call it the single best restaurant steak I’ve ever had. It’s partly a problem of apples and oranges: I’ve had absolutely superb steaks elsewhere but how do you really, effectively, compare a filet to a 40-day dry-aged ribeye? They’re such completely different cuts that I can’t. I will say this: the bone-in ribeye was, for me as well, the high point of the evening. I can’t offhand recall a better steak but, as I say, I can recall others that I loved as much.
The rest of the dinner was fine but simply didn’t measure up to the steak. As will become clear, I didn't come away quite as happy or impressed as my companions with the non-steak items. I liked the apps better than the sides and the sides better than the desserts. Nothing was perfunctory but nothing was knock-my-socks off great, either.
Apps: I’ll echo mrbarolo’s comment about the octopus, which I enjoyed very much. I didn’t think that the veggie bed (roasted peppers, chickpeas, grilled onions, charred tomatoes and black olives) quite came together. I don’t think it was a case of too much—though I understand the chickpeas, I don't think they contributed much—just a case of the whole adding up to a bit less than the sum of the parts. The octopus was the star of the plate and it was cooked perfectly. (Private note to Mark: gee, I’ve always thought you DID embody that perfect combination of char, chew, and tenderness!)
The sweetbreads were what I most eagerly anticipated and I found them largely disappointing. We all agreed that the dish needed salt—it seemed to have none. Our thought was that the polenta (made, our server pointed out, from Green City Market corn) just sucked up all the salt in the vicinity. Polenta does that and I, for one, had the impression that no one bothered to taste the rest of the dish before it was sent out. I also found the sweetbreads themselves not quite…right. They were pan-roasted and while I wouldn’t go so far as to describe them as soggy, there’s no way I can call them as crisp as I anticipated either. I fear they may have sat just a trifle too long before they arrived.
The shrimp hash and eggs was enjoyable if perhaps a bit too busy. I found it a little too salty for my taste but that may have been a reaction coming from the unsalted sweetbreads. It also embodied a phenomenon I’m coming to find more and more often: the description exceeded the performance.
The cheese popover: nice. Well-executed, just the right amount of cheese. But I found myself hankering for some additional bread. I didn’t have ronnie’s self-discipline and finished it early in the meal. It was never replenished and no other bread was brought. Frankly, what with the fine conversation and surfeit of items on the table, it wasn’t a priority and I never asked. But something, anything, else would have been welcomed.
After a little back and forth with our server, I ended up asking for a steak pink in the middle. My steak was clearly underdone by that standard. I decided to proceed in any event and have to say immediately that the meat’s depth of flavor was simply remarkable. This is not a melt-in-your mouth cut but what it lacks in tenderness it more than made up for in savor and tang and pure meaty goodness. It’s nearly impossible for me to imagine a beefier piece of beef. At 20 oz., even with the bone in, it was a generous serving.
The sides were there. I was disappointed to have our server recommend the garlicky spinach over the creamed, but she was so exceedingly well-informed (of which more anon) that I didn’t question her recommendation. I tend not to like spinach done this way but I must confess that this was the dish that showed how it can be done and done well. The spoonbread was good but no more and, for the price, a very chintzy serving. I didn’t care for the mushrooms and I love mushrooms. They just weren’t well-done enough, not dripping with earthy goodness. They were perhaps a bit too simply seasoned and sauteed extremely lightly. And again, a surprisingly small portion. The potato waffle was a bust for me. It’s hard not to like something covered with bacon and swimming in butter—but it epitomized the reason I tend to stay away from sides at steakhouses. Excess (or gimmickry) for the sake of excess. And just not as good as I had hoped or expected.
Unlike ronnie, I love dessert. But I was disappointed with all of them. Perfectly fine in a damning-with-faint-praise sort of way. Nothing that was off or wrong. Just nothing whatsoever that made me swoon. Indeed, nothing that even excited. The sole possible exception was a cream cheese ice cream that offered much more flavor than I would have expected and was quite enjoyable. I liked the crème brulee well enough, but it’s not high on my personal list of favorites. I have to disagree with mrbarolo here. He said that “none were better on the menu than on the fork.” I can’t agree, sadly. So too with the mignardises (though I’ll admit that he is quite right about the lime marshmallow).
Our server, Stacie G, however, was a gem. As pointed out above, she quickly figured out what our priorities were and catered beautifully to our interests and questions. She knew the menu inside out; she knew the components of the dishes, she had opinions and she had reasons. It didn’t take long to trust her judgment. I can't find it now upon a quick perusal of the above, but someone remarked that she treated us like regulars; that's a great point and, with her knowledge and ability to strike the right note of friendliness, made for a wonderful experience.
I must also praise her oenological expertise. We had narrowed our choices down to a few bottles for the apps, down to a Sancerre and a Chardonnay, if memory serves. She mentioned something else of which there was one bottle left: 2005 Naiades Verdelho Rueda, a “page pick” from their list. She described it carefully and it was the perfect recommendation. She explained why we might prefer it to one of our selections or why, contrariwise, we might wish to go with our choice. Not having tasted our potential picks, I’ll never know, but she hit that choice dead bang-on. Though she emphasized the floral notes, I was more impressed by the fruit, something I hadn’t entirely expected. In any event, it had enough body to stand up to the varied apps and went down very smoothly with a nice finish.
For the steaks, we told Stacie our “finalists,” which included a 2006 ZD cab and a couple of Malbecs; we also told her that we were also open to something completely different if she thought we’d overlooked anything. For example, pinots, in my experience, come in all styles and I simply don’t know them well enough to pick a reliable winner. We told her that if she knew of a particularly good example, we’d be open to it. In the event, she brought the ZD cab. In fact, when I first mentioned it, her one-word response was “Yummy.” My only regret is that we didn’t choose it and open it when we sat down. At 14.5% alcohol, it was still opening up as we were considering desserts. Huge and young and we had no right to expect a bottle like that to have the flavor it did. But even though it took it’s time opening up—no surprise there—it was still a pleasure to drink with that steak.
I want to underscore mrbarolo’s comment about the wine list. As he suggested, the wine list is not even remotely pocketbook friendly. The bottle choices under $100 were way too few and far between. One can argue, I suppose, about the philosophy of crafting a wine list for a place like this, expectations and so forth, but there are far too many excellent bottles out there that could have found their way to that list and didn’t. Far too heavily weighted to the expensive bottle. A great disappointment, notwithstanding the excellent bottles we had.
The coffee, as Mark noted, was okay. I had the decaf and our fourth comrade had the high-test. He agreed: remarkably average coffee. The day has long since passed when decaf meant bad or even just mediocre. I have had many truly excellent cups of decaf over the last several years and this was just mediocre coffee.
The high point of the evening, comedically speaking, came after dinner, though. There was a table of ten men to our side. Throughout dinner, a few of them on the end closest to our table watched with great attentiveness as ronnie snapped pictures and eavesdropped on the conversation—largely food-based, surprise, surprise—with apparent interest. As I was walking out, one of them tapped me on the shoulder and said with a slightly deferential hush: “Are you guys food critics?”
Last edited by
Gypsy Boy on September 17th, 2009, 10:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
Gypsy Boy
"I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)