The five of us piled into the Matrix and drove up Van Ness to The House of Prime Rib. Now, this sounds like a cheesy chain, but is actually a nice, classy place that hasn't changed much over the past fifty years. Steve (rootbeer1) and I have been there several times, and it's always a pleasure. We don't eat red meat that much anymore, but here you don't have much choice.
We were seated at a nice table by the fire. This is basically what's on the menu:
- Prime Rib
- Fish of the Day
That's it. Dinners come with hot sourdough bread, the house salad (artfully dressed at your table by the waiter, spinning the salad bowl over ice and pouring the dressing from on high), choice of baked or mashed, creamed spinach, and Yorkshire pudding. You do get to choose the size of the cut you get, and its doneness. Steve got the House of Prime Rib cut, end piece, and I got the same, medium. Everyone else got basically the same, because there really isn't anything else to order (well, the fish, but I've never seen anyone in the always-packed restaurant eating fish).
The food was good and filling, if not spectacular. The horseradish was exceedingly hot. The conversation and company was delightful, and the service exemplary, as always.
We got the car back from valet parking and sped back to the Lone Star for nightcaps. I drank Calistogas the entire evening--not in an alcoholic mood, I guess. Steve did too, throwing in a root beer at one point. We got home just about midnight--a late one for us. I predict naps later.