As promised, I went to a late showing of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Almost Washed-Up Has Beens (and in the case of Shia LaBeouf, “Never Was”). I disliked it so much, I saw it again on Saturday with my son and some friends. Its now 4 hours of my life I’ll never get back, so I feel doubly qualified to give you a brief review.
It wasn’t real good. Not awful either. 2 ½ stars.
As I’ve said to a few of you, it reminded me of the oldies concerts on PBS; its fun to watch these groups try to re-live the glory days of their youth, but they’re a few steps behind and a little off-key. So, too, the cast of Indiana Jones. Add in a convoluted story line and Shia LaBeouf (his best days were in “Even Stevens” of the “Battle for Shaker Heights”), and it’s not a cocktail for disaster, but definitely an appetizer for trouble.
As an aside, the years in Lee, Massachusetts have been kind to Karen Allen, but not so much for John Hurt; he looked better in “The Elephant Man” and made more sense.
Unfortunately, the movie was just the “essence” of an Indiana Jones movie, and didn’t do too much for me. I had high hopes, given that the critics have been pushing a three-star rating. Then again, the critics loved “Children of Men” too. For more on my opinion on the current state of movies, check out some very early posting of mine in January and February 2007.
The fun thing about this iteration was watching for the little inside jokes or tribute, “shout-outs” to earlier Spielberg or Lucas movies. (Semi-spoiler alert) From the “American Graffiti” beginning, to the “Close Encounters” ending, with everything in between, it was fun to see what might pop up next. As much fun as that was, the movie was missing the great “a-ha!” moments and when it’s all said and done, there’s nothing left to say and there’s nothing left to do. I wasn’t real sad it was over.
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I am loco for “Boloco”, a local burrito chain with a location in Natick. Really good value for the money, and quality fresh-made burritos. After a recent mis-step when they put sour cream in my burrito (I like sour cream on my burrito about as much as Harry Callahan like ketchup on a hot dog) and a few other little things, I reached out to the management to share my concerns (sounds so polite, right?) They responded in a proper way, with a refund and a credit, and I am pleased to report that 1) they have straightened things out, and 2) as much as I enjoy the burritos, I enjoy free burritos even more. They did right by me, and deserve to get credit for it.
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I wish “Fresh City” would re-evaluate their menu and price structure; talk about over-priced and poor price to value ratio. I’ve noticed the very few times I’ve been there in recent months that the crowds have thinned and I have to believe their numbers are down. With so many other places giving better value (Boloco and Panera Bread among them), they must be thinking about new ideas. Here’s one-lower your prices. By the way, stay away from the cinnamon pita chips. First, cinnamon stimulates the appetite, so you end up spending more money and 2) you ever see anyone use the tongs to pick up those chips? Think about it. Bathrooms at the House of Roy were cleaner than those chip baskets.
You’ve been a great audience. Enjoy the Eurythmics.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Idol and other things...who gives a crap?
For the two or three of you that have missed me, I’m back. The rest of you, I’m sure, are saying, “who gives a crap.” That’s why I’m here, for you to give a crap about…
There’s so much time, so little to do…strike that, reverse it.
So much to complain about or comment on, let me start by saying: Am I the only person in America that thought this was one of the worst American Idol seasons ever? Ok, I get it; keep telling us how good they are and maybe we’ll start believing it. Sure, you can keep telling me the mole on my arm looks like Nixon’s profile, but I know better (Not a tooooomah), just like I do with the one-trick ponies on AI. Come on, whenever Archuletta sings, he looks like he’s gonna cry, and the songs all sound the same. Why are the teeny-boppers so high on this kid? He’s got no rhythm, no ability to sing something upbeat, and a stage father that makes Lebron’s mother look tame. I’m telling you, that guy was throwing down the “East Side” at David Cook’s mother. I thought we were gonna have an American Idol “smackdown”. With Michael Buffer in the house, I was hoping we were getting ready to rumble.
No matter, because in a week or two, no one will remember, or care about, who won American Idol. To me, it’s gone the way of Survivor: scripted predictability.
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Sidney Pollack died this week. He directed several great movies (Three Days of the Condor, The Way We Were, They Shoot Horses Don’t They…) and he had a gift of getting the most out of actors. Twelve actors or actresses that were featured in his films were nominated or won Academy Awards for those roles. He also directed “Tootsie” and for those of you that know me personally, you know that I can’t stand cross-dressing jokes-the cheapest laugh in show businesses. “Oh yeah, that’s funny. A guy in a dress and another guy lusting after him/her not realizing he’s a guy. Damn, that’s brilliant.” From Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis, to Dustin Hoffman to Martin Lawrence…that joke sucks.
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Went to Ted Turner’s “Ted’s Montana Grill” in Westborough this past weekend for our 17th anniversary. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking-what went wrong? 20 years ago, apparently Elayne’s good sense the day I proposed. It must have been the liquor back then…or the heroin.
Back to Ted’s…I had a Bison rib-eye steak, with sautéed mushrooms and onion and (Mom, stop reading here) onion rings! I’ve had my share of greasy “Bloomin’ Onions” in my day, but these rings were the best I’ve ever had. The steak was ok, and next time, I’ll order regular cow, without the lemon butter finish, but all in all, a good dining experience and I look forward to taking our kids there because our son will enjoy it. Thankfully, I’ve raised carnivores, though my sister has been working hard on the vegetarian thing with Tofurkey and Tofu Pups (veggie hot dogs for the uninitiated.) No serving death for her. She’ll leave that to me.
I’m not done yet, but I am leaving in a few minutes to go see “Indiana Jones and the Legend of the Crystal Skull Cap.” He’s half-Jewish, you know. Not sure which though…the bottom or the top. So’s Shia LaBeouf…of course, with a name like that.
Tonight will be like going back in a time warp a little. I till remember seeing the second movie “…Temple of Doom” back in 1984 with Hugh, Lou, Steve and our late friend John. This is the same theatre where we saw Scarface…oh, the good times.
Over the next few days, watch for more posts, especially my review of “Indiana…”
You’ve been great. For now, enjoy Human League…
There’s so much time, so little to do…strike that, reverse it.
So much to complain about or comment on, let me start by saying: Am I the only person in America that thought this was one of the worst American Idol seasons ever? Ok, I get it; keep telling us how good they are and maybe we’ll start believing it. Sure, you can keep telling me the mole on my arm looks like Nixon’s profile, but I know better (Not a tooooomah), just like I do with the one-trick ponies on AI. Come on, whenever Archuletta sings, he looks like he’s gonna cry, and the songs all sound the same. Why are the teeny-boppers so high on this kid? He’s got no rhythm, no ability to sing something upbeat, and a stage father that makes Lebron’s mother look tame. I’m telling you, that guy was throwing down the “East Side” at David Cook’s mother. I thought we were gonna have an American Idol “smackdown”. With Michael Buffer in the house, I was hoping we were getting ready to rumble.
No matter, because in a week or two, no one will remember, or care about, who won American Idol. To me, it’s gone the way of Survivor: scripted predictability.
_______________
Sidney Pollack died this week. He directed several great movies (Three Days of the Condor, The Way We Were, They Shoot Horses Don’t They…) and he had a gift of getting the most out of actors. Twelve actors or actresses that were featured in his films were nominated or won Academy Awards for those roles. He also directed “Tootsie” and for those of you that know me personally, you know that I can’t stand cross-dressing jokes-the cheapest laugh in show businesses. “Oh yeah, that’s funny. A guy in a dress and another guy lusting after him/her not realizing he’s a guy. Damn, that’s brilliant.” From Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis, to Dustin Hoffman to Martin Lawrence…that joke sucks.
__________________
Went to Ted Turner’s “Ted’s Montana Grill” in Westborough this past weekend for our 17th anniversary. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking-what went wrong? 20 years ago, apparently Elayne’s good sense the day I proposed. It must have been the liquor back then…or the heroin.
Back to Ted’s…I had a Bison rib-eye steak, with sautéed mushrooms and onion and (Mom, stop reading here) onion rings! I’ve had my share of greasy “Bloomin’ Onions” in my day, but these rings were the best I’ve ever had. The steak was ok, and next time, I’ll order regular cow, without the lemon butter finish, but all in all, a good dining experience and I look forward to taking our kids there because our son will enjoy it. Thankfully, I’ve raised carnivores, though my sister has been working hard on the vegetarian thing with Tofurkey and Tofu Pups (veggie hot dogs for the uninitiated.) No serving death for her. She’ll leave that to me.
I’m not done yet, but I am leaving in a few minutes to go see “Indiana Jones and the Legend of the Crystal Skull Cap.” He’s half-Jewish, you know. Not sure which though…the bottom or the top. So’s Shia LaBeouf…of course, with a name like that.
Tonight will be like going back in a time warp a little. I till remember seeing the second movie “…Temple of Doom” back in 1984 with Hugh, Lou, Steve and our late friend John. This is the same theatre where we saw Scarface…oh, the good times.
Over the next few days, watch for more posts, especially my review of “Indiana…”
You’ve been great. For now, enjoy Human League…
Monday, April 21, 2008
Sitting at the Seder Table of my mind…
Just a few thoughts, while I sit around the next few weeks letting the matzah move at a glacial pace through my system…
Is anyone rushing to KFC to try its new “KFC Famous Bowls”? I think the only thing that makes them famous is that every bowl comes with a surprise hidden at the bottom: a hermetically sealed Lipitor.
You have three delectable buckets of swill to choose from, but here’s one description from KFC’s website-“a generous serving of our creamy mashed potatoes, layered with sweet corn and loaded with bite-sized pieces of crispy chicken. Then we drizzle it all with our signature home-style gravy and top it off with a shredded three-cheese blend. It's all your favorite flavors coming together. (Subject to availability)”.
Eric says: Its like an orgiastic feast for the senses…and you better come to your senses before you eat this. Mashed potatoes, then corn, then deep fried chicken, then gravy then cheese…I think a deep-fried Twinkie would be healthier.
740 calories, 54% of your RDA fat intake, 46% of your RDA saturated fat intake, 98% of your RDA sodium intake, 21% of your cholesterol intake. You’ll be happy to know that it does have 10% of your RDA Vitamin C and 20% of your RDA calcium (no doubt from the heavy cream in the potatoes).
“Subject to availability”? Why? Because the person working the food line (not really a “cook” or “chef”, more like an “assemblyman”) might have a stroke making this thing. Just smelling this thing might put you in a food coma.
I’m sure one of you, my cast of thousands of anonymous readers have eaten one. If you have lived to tell about it, let me know how it is. I live vicariously through you.
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Unlike a blog, where you are practically mandated to post a response (a habit many of you readers have not yet adopted), one feature of electronic versions of newspapers that is driving me nuts is the ability to post comments after stories. Why do we need this? I don’t mind reading an article written by someone trained to be a journalist, and maybe someone who will win a Pulitzer someday, but do I need to read comments by “Anonymous” or some other ridiculous screen name. Most of the comments border on the pathetic, and never reach sublime. As a colleague notes, these comments after the articles are like the bathroom graffiti of yesteryear. I half expect to read, “here I sit now broken hearted…”
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Passover began Saturday night, and we used a new Haggadah (book used to lead the service and re-tell the Exodus from Egypt.) The “Seder” or “service” can last anywhere from a half hour to several hours. However, I’ve seen an email circulating that has a one-minute Seder. This is catching fire, like “8 Minute Abs”.
My version of the 5-second Seder is like every Jewish holiday, which can be summed up in the following manner:
They tried to oppress us;
We beat them;
Let’s eat.
The problem is that with Passover, the punishment keeps on coming. No longer are we in bondage in Egypt, but we are still “bound” by Streit’s (a brand of matzah for those of you not of the faith). Beware of any holiday where prunes are served as dessert.
__________________
Speaking of Passover, the great Charlton Heston has gone to the great chariot race in the sky.
So, I say to you dear readers…”take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!”
You’ve been a great audience. Try the soylent green.
Is anyone rushing to KFC to try its new “KFC Famous Bowls”? I think the only thing that makes them famous is that every bowl comes with a surprise hidden at the bottom: a hermetically sealed Lipitor.
You have three delectable buckets of swill to choose from, but here’s one description from KFC’s website-“a generous serving of our creamy mashed potatoes, layered with sweet corn and loaded with bite-sized pieces of crispy chicken. Then we drizzle it all with our signature home-style gravy and top it off with a shredded three-cheese blend. It's all your favorite flavors coming together. (Subject to availability)”.
Eric says: Its like an orgiastic feast for the senses…and you better come to your senses before you eat this. Mashed potatoes, then corn, then deep fried chicken, then gravy then cheese…I think a deep-fried Twinkie would be healthier.
740 calories, 54% of your RDA fat intake, 46% of your RDA saturated fat intake, 98% of your RDA sodium intake, 21% of your cholesterol intake. You’ll be happy to know that it does have 10% of your RDA Vitamin C and 20% of your RDA calcium (no doubt from the heavy cream in the potatoes).
“Subject to availability”? Why? Because the person working the food line (not really a “cook” or “chef”, more like an “assemblyman”) might have a stroke making this thing. Just smelling this thing might put you in a food coma.
I’m sure one of you, my cast of thousands of anonymous readers have eaten one. If you have lived to tell about it, let me know how it is. I live vicariously through you.
___________
Unlike a blog, where you are practically mandated to post a response (a habit many of you readers have not yet adopted), one feature of electronic versions of newspapers that is driving me nuts is the ability to post comments after stories. Why do we need this? I don’t mind reading an article written by someone trained to be a journalist, and maybe someone who will win a Pulitzer someday, but do I need to read comments by “Anonymous” or some other ridiculous screen name. Most of the comments border on the pathetic, and never reach sublime. As a colleague notes, these comments after the articles are like the bathroom graffiti of yesteryear. I half expect to read, “here I sit now broken hearted…”
__________________
Passover began Saturday night, and we used a new Haggadah (book used to lead the service and re-tell the Exodus from Egypt.) The “Seder” or “service” can last anywhere from a half hour to several hours. However, I’ve seen an email circulating that has a one-minute Seder. This is catching fire, like “8 Minute Abs”.
My version of the 5-second Seder is like every Jewish holiday, which can be summed up in the following manner:
They tried to oppress us;
We beat them;
Let’s eat.
The problem is that with Passover, the punishment keeps on coming. No longer are we in bondage in Egypt, but we are still “bound” by Streit’s (a brand of matzah for those of you not of the faith). Beware of any holiday where prunes are served as dessert.
__________________
Speaking of Passover, the great Charlton Heston has gone to the great chariot race in the sky.
So, I say to you dear readers…”take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!”
You’ve been a great audience. Try the soylent green.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Coffee Cup Philosophy
This may come as a surprise for you, but I spend some time each day at Starbucks. It is truly part of my “Third Realm”, that place where no one bothers you and you can regroup, re-assess and look to your inner Juan Valdez for guidance. It’s also a place where you can pick up a bit of philosophy, found on the side of the Starbucks’ coffee cups, called “The Way I See It.”
Last week, I read “The Way I See It”-the author writes about how she and her cousin were born a week apart, but the cousin was raised by illiterate farmers in Cambodia, and stayed on the family farm, while the author moved from Cambodia to Southern California and has now received her Ph.D. Separated by a week in age, and thousands of miles of geography, the two cousins come from the same stock, but their lives have, and will continue to take wildly divergent paths.
The same day, in a moment of synergistic serendipity, there was a special shout out to “Doogie Houser, MD” on…wait for it…”How I Met Your Mother.” At the end of the show, Barney (played by “Doogie” himself-Neil Patrick Harris) types, sitting at a blue “DOS” screen, about the lessons he learned that day. I love these little “in jokes” (a Doogie Houser tribute 20 years since it was broadcast), but this was done in a moment of self-reflection by Barney…so it got me thinking.
At any point in my life, I could have taken a different turn…a different path. I wonder how lucky I am, that I grew up in a moderately upper-middle-class town, with exposure to culture and educational resources not available everywhere, even in this country (to hammer this point home, I recommend Rory Kennedy’s documentary “American Hollow” about Appalachia). I can thank my parents for that, and frankly, since my father served in the Army in Korea, I’m very lucky I didn’t grow up in a suburb of Seoul, South Korea instead of Boston. Oddly, at any moment in anyone’s lives, any little decision made by people beyond your control could impact your life forever.
Tonight, I participated in a first time homebuyer forum. In the faces of these potential buyers, the single people or the young couples, I see the hope of a new generation of homeowners. But I can’t help but think that for each of them, or of us, there’s an illiterate cousin farmer somewhere, not nearly as lucky as we, even if we don’t see that.
You’ve been a great audience. Now, for a few words from Richard Gere-“Free Tibet”.
Last week, I read “The Way I See It”-the author writes about how she and her cousin were born a week apart, but the cousin was raised by illiterate farmers in Cambodia, and stayed on the family farm, while the author moved from Cambodia to Southern California and has now received her Ph.D. Separated by a week in age, and thousands of miles of geography, the two cousins come from the same stock, but their lives have, and will continue to take wildly divergent paths.
The same day, in a moment of synergistic serendipity, there was a special shout out to “Doogie Houser, MD” on…wait for it…”How I Met Your Mother.” At the end of the show, Barney (played by “Doogie” himself-Neil Patrick Harris) types, sitting at a blue “DOS” screen, about the lessons he learned that day. I love these little “in jokes” (a Doogie Houser tribute 20 years since it was broadcast), but this was done in a moment of self-reflection by Barney…so it got me thinking.
At any point in my life, I could have taken a different turn…a different path. I wonder how lucky I am, that I grew up in a moderately upper-middle-class town, with exposure to culture and educational resources not available everywhere, even in this country (to hammer this point home, I recommend Rory Kennedy’s documentary “American Hollow” about Appalachia). I can thank my parents for that, and frankly, since my father served in the Army in Korea, I’m very lucky I didn’t grow up in a suburb of Seoul, South Korea instead of Boston. Oddly, at any moment in anyone’s lives, any little decision made by people beyond your control could impact your life forever.
Tonight, I participated in a first time homebuyer forum. In the faces of these potential buyers, the single people or the young couples, I see the hope of a new generation of homeowners. But I can’t help but think that for each of them, or of us, there’s an illiterate cousin farmer somewhere, not nearly as lucky as we, even if we don’t see that.
You’ve been a great audience. Now, for a few words from Richard Gere-“Free Tibet”.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Like my fortune cookie says..."That Wasn't Chicken"
At the suggestion of several people, I actually went to, and dined at, P.F. Changs. A buddy of mine met me a couple of weeks ago (he is a frequent reader of the Critical Palate, and dragged me there kicking and screaming, or at least whining, convincing me to try it, because he hadn’t yet either. Ok, maybe I went there voluntarily...or suggested it). We ate there right before seeing “Avenue Q”-by the way, one of the best shows I’ve ever seen.
Here are my observations-Chinese food isn’t the same if the place is filled with noisy investment banker/wannabes in suits, served to you by non-Asians with mysterious accents, that you hear, let alone understand. I need it dark, with most of the noise from the kitchen being the cooks screaming at each other in Chinese.
I liked the sauces on the table, but didn’t like the non-Asian waiter mixing things together. I liked the appetizers (lettuce wraps) but not the soup (too thick, and probably made in a factory in New Jersey-at least it tasted like Bayonne). We liked the wok-charred beef and the Chang’s Spicy Chicken
The food was adequate, and such small portions! Besides the appetizers and soup, we ordered the two main courses, and put it all away, and walked away needing more. When the bill is over $60.00 for two people, you better walk away with a wheelbarrow of leftovers. We walked away needing more.
I would say it is passable Chinese food, as middle America imagined it could be, but not authentic. It was about as authentic Chinese as the Olive Garden is to Italian food. For authentic, I need an authentic staff, traditional food, and bathrooms that you wouldn’t let your dog use. At least the company was good.
To be fair and balanced, like Fox News…I will give a special shout-out to Willy’s Steakhouse and Sushi in Shrewsbury (say that five times fast). Besides the great company, I have never been disappointed with a meal there. The food is always well prepared, and the service is always prompt and professional. Most of the wait staff are older, and have been there a long time (at least over the past several years we’ve been dining there.) They have an extensive menu and plenty of things for Elayne to choose from. For a great meal, try Willy’s. Tell them the Critical Palate sent you.
Because you asked…
I am extremely underwhelmed with American Idol. They keep saying it’s “the best Top 12 ever”. Who’s making that statement? Helen Keller?
This crop is utterly awful. They all come with professional experience, and they are all “one trick ponies.”
Carly Smithson-not sure what she is or where she belongs, but it’s not on this stage. Sometimes she looks like a “blivit” (ten pounds of garbage in a five pound bag) and she looks like she should add more fiber to her diet.
Brooke White-Carole King, Carly Simon, Roberta Flack, Phoebe Snow…they all seem the same.
Seyesha-she’s got a “10 head”…because it’s bigger than a forehead.
The rest…David Cook (giant head and weird hair), Michael Johns (creepy-and holds the microphone like a porn star), David Archuletta (Kelly Clarkson stalker…and wannabe), Jason Castro (perhaps the dumbest contestant ever) , Kristy Lee Cook (perhaps the smartest since Hailey Scarnato) and Ramuielle (who exactly is her fan base? Even those pictures on the internet don’t make her interesting-just strange).
Can’t wait for Dolly Parton week.
You’ve been great. Now, for your entertainment pleasure…enjoy Roy Clark and Buck Owens!
Here are my observations-Chinese food isn’t the same if the place is filled with noisy investment banker/wannabes in suits, served to you by non-Asians with mysterious accents, that you hear, let alone understand. I need it dark, with most of the noise from the kitchen being the cooks screaming at each other in Chinese.
I liked the sauces on the table, but didn’t like the non-Asian waiter mixing things together. I liked the appetizers (lettuce wraps) but not the soup (too thick, and probably made in a factory in New Jersey-at least it tasted like Bayonne). We liked the wok-charred beef and the Chang’s Spicy Chicken
The food was adequate, and such small portions! Besides the appetizers and soup, we ordered the two main courses, and put it all away, and walked away needing more. When the bill is over $60.00 for two people, you better walk away with a wheelbarrow of leftovers. We walked away needing more.
I would say it is passable Chinese food, as middle America imagined it could be, but not authentic. It was about as authentic Chinese as the Olive Garden is to Italian food. For authentic, I need an authentic staff, traditional food, and bathrooms that you wouldn’t let your dog use. At least the company was good.
To be fair and balanced, like Fox News…I will give a special shout-out to Willy’s Steakhouse and Sushi in Shrewsbury (say that five times fast). Besides the great company, I have never been disappointed with a meal there. The food is always well prepared, and the service is always prompt and professional. Most of the wait staff are older, and have been there a long time (at least over the past several years we’ve been dining there.) They have an extensive menu and plenty of things for Elayne to choose from. For a great meal, try Willy’s. Tell them the Critical Palate sent you.
Because you asked…
I am extremely underwhelmed with American Idol. They keep saying it’s “the best Top 12 ever”. Who’s making that statement? Helen Keller?
This crop is utterly awful. They all come with professional experience, and they are all “one trick ponies.”
Carly Smithson-not sure what she is or where she belongs, but it’s not on this stage. Sometimes she looks like a “blivit” (ten pounds of garbage in a five pound bag) and she looks like she should add more fiber to her diet.
Brooke White-Carole King, Carly Simon, Roberta Flack, Phoebe Snow…they all seem the same.
Seyesha-she’s got a “10 head”…because it’s bigger than a forehead.
The rest…David Cook (giant head and weird hair), Michael Johns (creepy-and holds the microphone like a porn star), David Archuletta (Kelly Clarkson stalker…and wannabe), Jason Castro (perhaps the dumbest contestant ever) , Kristy Lee Cook (perhaps the smartest since Hailey Scarnato) and Ramuielle (who exactly is her fan base? Even those pictures on the internet don’t make her interesting-just strange).
Can’t wait for Dolly Parton week.
You’ve been great. Now, for your entertainment pleasure…enjoy Roy Clark and Buck Owens!
Monday, March 10, 2008
Metro-Nein
I think its important to set the stage with a clip from a Steakhouse's own website:
Welcome to "X" Steak House. We invite you to enjoy a unique dining experience featuring fine, aged beef and chops, fresh seafood and 5 star service in a sophisticated ambiance at affordable prices. "X" Steak House is elegant enough to entertain business clients or celebrate a special occasion yet, affordable enough to dine at frequently. Our devoted, and well-trained staff, strives to accommodate each guest and fulfill special requests.
Eric says…unless your special request is a edible steak!
We took our son there for his 12th birthday this past Saturday, and I’ll explain by cutting right to the chase: I ordered my rib-eye steak “medium”. I wouldn’t think that’s too hard for the kitchen staff. When our food came out, while the sides were hot, my steak was room temperature at best; it was cold on the plate and cold on my palate. Everyone else’s food seemed to be fine, but mine was cold. So, I sent it back. (Two asides here-1) our server was very pleasant and helpful, and 2) this is the second time I’ve eaten here and had to send my steak back due to temperature issues. I don’t understand this…the steak is cooked, put on a plate, and presented to the diner. If it has to be “held” while other meals are cooked, then the timing in the kitchen needs to be re-worked).
Oddly, within a minute or so, our server appeared with the steak, telling me that they heated it up. Well, if you had seen this thing now, you wouldn’t feed it to my sister’s dog, and he’s blind and has no sense of smell-lucky for him. Whatever came out of the kitchen was now grey, and strangely, wet and glistening. I should note here that when it came out the first time, it looked a little dry, without much juice on the plate; it struck me as odd that after sending it back, it returns to me looking like it took a shower.
When I took the first bite, nervously, I was unpleasantly surprised. Whatever happened in the kitchen, it apparently had no impact on the temperature of the meat, as it was perhaps even cooler than before, but now, it was also incredibly greasy. The texture was inedible. Greasy, as if covered in oil, slimy and cold…like phlegm.
I pushed the plate away, and when the server came by later on, I told her my thoughts about the steak, and she sent a manager over to discuss this; he told me that he checked in on the kitchen about the steak. He told me that they coated the steak in oil, and then threw it on the grill; frankly, the way it looked, microwave would be more like it.
But why coat it in oil? I ordered the fattiest cut of beef on the menu (the Ribeye, because “the flavah’s in the faaaaaaaaaaat”) so it doesn’t need any more fat on it. “Excuse me, I’ll take the ribeye with extra fat, and a side of sautéed Lipitor, please”. Second, I cannot believe it went back on the grill. While not as bad as a double-dip, my fork was in that steak a few times, and then in my mouth, so apparently, everyone who ate food prepared on that grill that night is now walking around with a little of my DNA. But so too am I, for if they did it to me, kind reader, they did it to others. That is just too much for me to bear.
While I don’t want to pile on, let me digress and talk about my daughter’s dinner, that she didn’t eat. They don’t really have a kids’ menu, but they do offer some kid-friendly items. Tovah ordered a cheeseburger, and we asked for American cheese. When the burger came out, it was on a sourdough roll (a flavor profile many kids don’t yet enjoy) and it was smothered in Boursin cheese. Yeah, like that’s just like American. That’s like saying Green Day is just like The Beatles. Between the cheese and the roll, she just couldn’t eat it. She ended up eating some of Elayne’s meal. We didn’t complain about the burger, mostly because the meal was already taking way to long. I needed to end the agony.
Let me conclude by saying that this is the third time, and last, that we dined there. The first time we went, we paid a bill of $82.15, and they made change for $83.00, without any coin. Not that it’s a lot of money, but the causal arrogance that they could keep the money was irritating, and the manager’s non-response that time was amazing. The last two times, I sent my meat back because it was cold, and one of my dinner companions noted that when the meat came, even though three of us ordered ribeyes, they all looked different. At a restaurant that claims to serve high-end food, I expect the cuts of beef to look the same. Hopefully, it all came from a cow.
This last time was my tipping point. Three strikes and I’m out. With so many other dining choices, why do I need to waste my money and time at this place?
Its predecessor, Desmond O’Malley’s, was common, and mediocre, but you knew what you were getting when you walked in. This place is a fraud, a wannabe, a pretender and a poser among restaurants.
I say bring back York Steakhouse…and avoid Metro-Nein!
You’ve been great…enjoy Brewer & Shipley…
Welcome to "X" Steak House. We invite you to enjoy a unique dining experience featuring fine, aged beef and chops, fresh seafood and 5 star service in a sophisticated ambiance at affordable prices. "X" Steak House is elegant enough to entertain business clients or celebrate a special occasion yet, affordable enough to dine at frequently. Our devoted, and well-trained staff, strives to accommodate each guest and fulfill special requests.
Eric says…unless your special request is a edible steak!
We took our son there for his 12th birthday this past Saturday, and I’ll explain by cutting right to the chase: I ordered my rib-eye steak “medium”. I wouldn’t think that’s too hard for the kitchen staff. When our food came out, while the sides were hot, my steak was room temperature at best; it was cold on the plate and cold on my palate. Everyone else’s food seemed to be fine, but mine was cold. So, I sent it back. (Two asides here-1) our server was very pleasant and helpful, and 2) this is the second time I’ve eaten here and had to send my steak back due to temperature issues. I don’t understand this…the steak is cooked, put on a plate, and presented to the diner. If it has to be “held” while other meals are cooked, then the timing in the kitchen needs to be re-worked).
Oddly, within a minute or so, our server appeared with the steak, telling me that they heated it up. Well, if you had seen this thing now, you wouldn’t feed it to my sister’s dog, and he’s blind and has no sense of smell-lucky for him. Whatever came out of the kitchen was now grey, and strangely, wet and glistening. I should note here that when it came out the first time, it looked a little dry, without much juice on the plate; it struck me as odd that after sending it back, it returns to me looking like it took a shower.
When I took the first bite, nervously, I was unpleasantly surprised. Whatever happened in the kitchen, it apparently had no impact on the temperature of the meat, as it was perhaps even cooler than before, but now, it was also incredibly greasy. The texture was inedible. Greasy, as if covered in oil, slimy and cold…like phlegm.
I pushed the plate away, and when the server came by later on, I told her my thoughts about the steak, and she sent a manager over to discuss this; he told me that he checked in on the kitchen about the steak. He told me that they coated the steak in oil, and then threw it on the grill; frankly, the way it looked, microwave would be more like it.
But why coat it in oil? I ordered the fattiest cut of beef on the menu (the Ribeye, because “the flavah’s in the faaaaaaaaaaat”) so it doesn’t need any more fat on it. “Excuse me, I’ll take the ribeye with extra fat, and a side of sautéed Lipitor, please”. Second, I cannot believe it went back on the grill. While not as bad as a double-dip, my fork was in that steak a few times, and then in my mouth, so apparently, everyone who ate food prepared on that grill that night is now walking around with a little of my DNA. But so too am I, for if they did it to me, kind reader, they did it to others. That is just too much for me to bear.
While I don’t want to pile on, let me digress and talk about my daughter’s dinner, that she didn’t eat. They don’t really have a kids’ menu, but they do offer some kid-friendly items. Tovah ordered a cheeseburger, and we asked for American cheese. When the burger came out, it was on a sourdough roll (a flavor profile many kids don’t yet enjoy) and it was smothered in Boursin cheese. Yeah, like that’s just like American. That’s like saying Green Day is just like The Beatles. Between the cheese and the roll, she just couldn’t eat it. She ended up eating some of Elayne’s meal. We didn’t complain about the burger, mostly because the meal was already taking way to long. I needed to end the agony.
Let me conclude by saying that this is the third time, and last, that we dined there. The first time we went, we paid a bill of $82.15, and they made change for $83.00, without any coin. Not that it’s a lot of money, but the causal arrogance that they could keep the money was irritating, and the manager’s non-response that time was amazing. The last two times, I sent my meat back because it was cold, and one of my dinner companions noted that when the meat came, even though three of us ordered ribeyes, they all looked different. At a restaurant that claims to serve high-end food, I expect the cuts of beef to look the same. Hopefully, it all came from a cow.
This last time was my tipping point. Three strikes and I’m out. With so many other dining choices, why do I need to waste my money and time at this place?
Its predecessor, Desmond O’Malley’s, was common, and mediocre, but you knew what you were getting when you walked in. This place is a fraud, a wannabe, a pretender and a poser among restaurants.
I say bring back York Steakhouse…and avoid Metro-Nein!
You’ve been great…enjoy Brewer & Shipley…
Monday, March 3, 2008
House of Roy...mmmm, special
So many of you requested the back-story on the “House of Roy” (or at least one of you), that I feel obliged to explain. You’ll be sorry you asked.
“House of Roy” was THE Chinese restaurant of my childhood. This was way before the days of Mandarin and Szechwan cuisine, when all Chinese food came swimming in a brown oyster-style sauce. My Dad would regale us with tales of him going there when he was younger, when the menus were chiseled on tablets. (Really, who would of thought my father…telling stories? Hi Dad, just kidding…). We all have these places; I know someone that always went to Moon Palace and ordered Hong Sue Guy…
This place defined “craphole”. The place was a few steps up literally, but several steps down, figuratively. It was separated into two dining rooms, shaped like a “U”. You walked in at the top left, then through one dining room down and around into the other. The floor was collapsing, so you were always leaning left when you walked in. The bathroom floors weren’t much better, and if you’ve ever been in a bathroom in an old Chinatown building…well, you don’t need any further information.
Well, for years, at least twice a month, we’d truck into Boston’s Chinatown, and dine at the “House of Roy” on Tyler Street. We were hooked. We were addicted to that place, like Drago to those injections from Bridgette Nielson. Sometimes we’d meet other families, sometimes just us, but two things never changed: the greatest fortune cookie joke ever (“Help, I’m being held prisoner in a Chinese fortune-cookie factory.” Flip it over: “Never mind, I escaped.” I still use this joke to this day.) Second, the House of Roy Special, and boy, was this special.
Long before I avoided foods that were biblically not kosher (shellfish and pork, for you fans keeping score at home), the “Special” was the apex of gastronomical pleasures. I only wish I had an old menu so I could explain everything in this bucket of food. It was a mélange of beef, chicken, shrimp, peapods, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots tossed in the brown sauce. Poured onto a platter, it was surrounded by fried wontons, and covered with pork strips. Here me now and believe me later…this was an orgiastic feast for the senses.
My parents promised me that I could have my own Special, the week before my bar mitzvah, as my ticket to manhood. My Dad said I could never finish it off, as it was really made for 14 people. Well, I was determined to show him…I went deep into training. I ate light that whole weekend, and didn’t eat at all on Sunday, preparing for Sunday night’s repast. Well, we ordered two, one for the rest of the table, and one for me.
The anticipation was more than I could bear…I dug into that thing like John Henry, swinging his mighty hammer. I ate, and ate, and ate some more, and I didn’t make a frigging dent! It’s like the thing was haunted, regenerating itself after every bite I took. I vaguely recall my father taking the rest, after I passed out into my food coma. I ate so much; I still think I have some left in me, over 30 years later.
When we left, I don’t think I made it 10 feet from the steps, but I’m sure Roy appreciated it when I decided to decorate the parking lot instead of his rest room. It was immense, intense, and a fine “how do you do” into the landscape of bingeing, and apparently purging. Unlike my father, who can consume and immense amount of food, and ate 19 lobsters in a sitting once, I am a mere amateur.
Roy’s is gone now, and Roy himself, who was probably a classmate of Confucious, is gone as well.
Viva House of Roy!
You've been great...enjoy Toshiko Akioshi...
“House of Roy” was THE Chinese restaurant of my childhood. This was way before the days of Mandarin and Szechwan cuisine, when all Chinese food came swimming in a brown oyster-style sauce. My Dad would regale us with tales of him going there when he was younger, when the menus were chiseled on tablets. (Really, who would of thought my father…telling stories? Hi Dad, just kidding…). We all have these places; I know someone that always went to Moon Palace and ordered Hong Sue Guy…
This place defined “craphole”. The place was a few steps up literally, but several steps down, figuratively. It was separated into two dining rooms, shaped like a “U”. You walked in at the top left, then through one dining room down and around into the other. The floor was collapsing, so you were always leaning left when you walked in. The bathroom floors weren’t much better, and if you’ve ever been in a bathroom in an old Chinatown building…well, you don’t need any further information.
Well, for years, at least twice a month, we’d truck into Boston’s Chinatown, and dine at the “House of Roy” on Tyler Street. We were hooked. We were addicted to that place, like Drago to those injections from Bridgette Nielson. Sometimes we’d meet other families, sometimes just us, but two things never changed: the greatest fortune cookie joke ever (“Help, I’m being held prisoner in a Chinese fortune-cookie factory.” Flip it over: “Never mind, I escaped.” I still use this joke to this day.) Second, the House of Roy Special, and boy, was this special.
Long before I avoided foods that were biblically not kosher (shellfish and pork, for you fans keeping score at home), the “Special” was the apex of gastronomical pleasures. I only wish I had an old menu so I could explain everything in this bucket of food. It was a mélange of beef, chicken, shrimp, peapods, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots tossed in the brown sauce. Poured onto a platter, it was surrounded by fried wontons, and covered with pork strips. Here me now and believe me later…this was an orgiastic feast for the senses.
My parents promised me that I could have my own Special, the week before my bar mitzvah, as my ticket to manhood. My Dad said I could never finish it off, as it was really made for 14 people. Well, I was determined to show him…I went deep into training. I ate light that whole weekend, and didn’t eat at all on Sunday, preparing for Sunday night’s repast. Well, we ordered two, one for the rest of the table, and one for me.
The anticipation was more than I could bear…I dug into that thing like John Henry, swinging his mighty hammer. I ate, and ate, and ate some more, and I didn’t make a frigging dent! It’s like the thing was haunted, regenerating itself after every bite I took. I vaguely recall my father taking the rest, after I passed out into my food coma. I ate so much; I still think I have some left in me, over 30 years later.
When we left, I don’t think I made it 10 feet from the steps, but I’m sure Roy appreciated it when I decided to decorate the parking lot instead of his rest room. It was immense, intense, and a fine “how do you do” into the landscape of bingeing, and apparently purging. Unlike my father, who can consume and immense amount of food, and ate 19 lobsters in a sitting once, I am a mere amateur.
Roy’s is gone now, and Roy himself, who was probably a classmate of Confucious, is gone as well.
Viva House of Roy!
You've been great...enjoy Toshiko Akioshi...
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