Sunday, July 6, 2008

Never Trust the Mob

This little kids on vacation thing is really working out. I have been extremely unproductive, and loving it! Today I may do some bare minimums like feed the pets.
Yesterday Hubby and I did manage to un-glue our butts from the couch and go see "Get Smart". It was stupid funny and very well done, the casting was perfect, and the laughs cheap. They stayed very true to the original show and it was a real hoot.
After the movie, we went to dinner at 'Al Capone's Steakhouse and Hideaway'. It's and old (like 100) speakeasy that various shady individuals used to frequent. I had heard really good things about the place and wanted to try it for some time now. It's not cheap, but supposedly worth it.
Notice I said supposedly. First of all, the place smelled, and not like steaks. It had a musty, moldy odor like that of an old woman's house filled with 27 cats. The waitress came to explain the menu and take our drink order. I ordered a martini. A steakhouse should serve a good martini right, WRONG! It was not cold. Not quite room temperature but barely chilled. I know that the polar ice caps are supposedly melting, but do we have to chince on the ice in the shaker? Next the bread came out. It was 2 large kaiser style rolls drenched in olive oil, parmasean and herbs. Sounds good , heh? Only if it wasn't at least a week old. Soon the soup came. Creamy Potato for me, and onion for Hubby. Good stuff, nothing to complain about here (shocking I know). Onto the salads which consisted of chopped iceberg lettuce and 2 cherry tomatos topped with a cool whip style glob of ranch dressing. The dressing was so thick that it shook like jello. And the coloring looked like something that I typically go to extremes to keep out of my mouth.
Then came the main event. Hubby ordered the rib eye and I the fillet. The stakes were gray in color and mine was not even close to the medium rare I had ordered. Reluctantly, I sent mine back. I do not like doing this. I used to work in the industry and do not want to be 'that customer' but at $35 for the steak, I want it right. The waitress was very nice and asked "Can I offer you another drink while you wait for that to come back out"? "Yes, thank you" I reply, thinking free booze can forgive any meal. Only later to find out that she was just suggestive selling and there was no attempt to atone for the lousy meal. My fillet version 2.0 finally did come out, now that Hubby had finished his lackluster rib eye. It was rare this time and complete with fat and grizzle. Yup, that's right. Any of you carnivores out there appreciate just how ludicrous this concept is. I no longer had the energy to try and salvage this meal. I just cut from the ends and ate it the best I could and boxed the rest up (to place in trash receptacle later). In retrospect I should have complained and not paid for the meal, but my spirit was already broken. The waitress offered us dessert and I thought to myself "I'm not falling for that one!". So we paid our bill and got the hell out of there. We will not be back. I should have known that anyplace named after Al Capone surely has to be a graft.
We salvaged the rest of the evening by stopping and picking up the first season of "The X Files",
glued ourselves back to the couch and dozed off sometime during the 3rd episode. It was a great date, but I am no longer allowed to pick the restaurant.

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Tom said...

I shall expect to see that restaurant featured on the next season of "Kitchen Nightmares". It's sad when a kitchen staff doesn't respect the food. They can't last forever on prior repute alone.

nukedad said...

I can't believe a Manager didn't come by your table. Restaurant Management was all I did for the last 20+ years. It's inexcusable. Go to "Trip Advisor" and leave a review. Better yet, call them and let them know. Today, you are better off calling their attention to it while still in house, but if the Manger can't be bothered to deal with it, maybe a call to the GM or the owner will change his attitude. I'm sure they'd want to know about your experience. I would, if it was my restaurant.

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