I was kindly invited by a friend who had just received a nice bonus from work. As I live nearby, I rode my bike - I know, kinda unconventional for a place like this. They have an honest-to-goodness bikerack right in front, but while I was chaining my bike, the dude at the door was asking me if I was eating there. I didn't understand him due to his accent, so I asked for clarification. That's when I realized he was asking me because he felt only customers should use the bikerack. As the bikerack is a public item, he had no right suggesting that, which was somewhat confirmed when I asked him why he was asking. Again, I didn't quite understand him, but I just knew. That's pretty lousy.\r
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Inside, the bartender was sneering a bit. Way to make me feel welcomed, O'Henry! Luckily, sitting at a table was much better. The waiters - all young guys - were personable. They even gave us a menu or two when they found out we were newbies. We ordered shrimp cocktail (yawn . . . ), tomatoes and vidalia onions (good with steak sauce but nothing to shout about), the German potatoes (recommended as being like hash browns, but more like home fries, which was fine but nothing special), and creamed spinach (I've had better). \r
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But how was the steak? Porterhouse is not my favorite, but it was ok. The presentation is interesting, and it makes for a nice communal meal. However, I was not blown away.\r
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Best part of the meal, however, was the cheesecake. Despite being full, I am totally glad I ordered it. Replete with a bown of creme fresche (sp?), it was a nice way to end the evening. \r
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Is it all that? No! Was it worth going? Yes . . . once. I am still miffed by the 'tude, although I've tried to be objective all the same . . . FWIW.
Pros: I love steak
Cons: Get over yourselves and your NY BS
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