I should know better. Valentine's Day, along with New Year's Eve and Mother's Day, is one of the biggest restaurant rip-off days of the year. But, considering that I'm without a boyfriend at present, the idea of girl's night featuring fattening fare and several cocktails sounded like a wonderful anti-hearts and flowers plan.
Boy was I wrong.
The set-up sounded okay. I was joining my friends Stacy and Maureen along with several of Maureen's friends for dinner at Maroons in Chelsea. What was especially appealing - beyond the fact that Maroons had won acclaim for its Fried Chicken and other calorie-laden Southern specialties - was the notion that the table would be half straight/half lesbian, so we could share dating war stories from both sides of the fence. Figured that our bubbly, wise-cracking, sexy table would eventually lure other diners - from either sides of the fence - and you can take the "Sex and the City" storyline from there.
Well, there was one SATC moment: I thought I was going through something akin to Samantha's chemo-induced hot flashes the second I walked in the door. It was sweltering at Maroons bar - with no hope of the air conditioner being turned on, according to the proprietress.
Thankfully, she moved us to a cooler room for dinner. Unfortunately, she placed our party at what I'm sure was really meant as a table for four. It made for an extremely tight squeeze for our seven.
Then, to make matters worse, contrary to expectations that this highly-unromantic, laid-back, noisy, neighborhood spot would be filled with singletons such as we, the place seemed to be swarming with quiet couples. And, none of them looked too happy to see a gaggle of gals in the corner. Even the waitstaff seemed distressed - when we actually saw a member of the waitstaff.
I could go into graphic detail about the wholly mediocre food: the overly garlicky and annoyingly spicy Caesar salad; the bland Fried Green Tomatoes; the crackling, yet uninspired Fried Chicken; the wimpy, flavor-challenged Stuffed and Smothered Pork Chop. The taste of bread pudding I allowed myself wasn't even worth the calories. It was mushy and literally drowning in a harsh, unpleasant rum. (And, how often have you heard me criticize the use of alcohol in cooking or baking?) Even the coffee was lousy - grey, cold and lousy.
The bill per person, including 4 bottles of wine: $100.
Like I said, a Valentine's Day dinner isn't really the true judge of a restaurant experience. But still, after forking over a cool Benjamin and going home with a nasty belly ache, I don't think I'll be looking to get Maroon-ed again on February 14th. Next year, I cook or order in.
But, then again if some handsome man wants to take me to an elegant spot like Per Se, per se, how could I refuse? But, you know, it might just be more fun on February 15th.
Valentines. Years ago it erked me a bit that my wife didn't care about Valentines. These days I feel better about it. This last one I ordered Straw Hat pizza delivered and watched Spaceballs on teevee. Perfection. I send her flowers enough, so we're set.
There's nothing quite as depressing as uninspiring fried chicken. When one orders fried chicken, it's because you really crave that crispy, juicy chickenny dish. Everyone has this picture in their head of the golden brown chicken of love. And when it shows up to the table, the first bite is taken and your hopes fall to the bottom of your feet ... oh it's so depressing you want to cry. Which is why I rarely order it when I go out. It isn't worth the possible hell.
Since I've only just arrived here and don't know you, what's the deal with using alcohol in cooking? I don't believe I could live without my port & shallot meat pan sauces. And a splash of hearty red wine in 'some' red pasta sauces makes me grin. I use a thick beer for my barbecue sauces along with a huge pot of chili. Yum. It's what I require! Of course you've heard all this before.
Dang, it's 8 am here and I'm already hungry. Sigh.
Posted by: Dr. Biggles | February 19, 2004 at 02:16 PM
I was saying just the opposite. I NEVER complain about the use of liquor in cooking. It is a must in many circumstances. This baking endeavor, however, just didn't fit the bill - or at least their use of rum was way off the mark.
Posted by: the vamp | February 19, 2004 at 08:38 PM
Whups, sorry. It sounds like not only their use of rum was off, but most everything else.
I believe I'll make some fried chicken this coming weekend! Yum.
Posted by: Dr. Biggles | February 19, 2004 at 10:28 PM