Text 10353, 133 rader
Skriven 2007-01-10 18:16:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: eating out 861
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My brother likes to go out and drive randomly - probably an
effect of his having been cooped up for three decades. Though
it, and certain political causes, take up most of his money,
I don't see anything wrong with the former, just so he doesn't
mash anyone on the road; I can't cast any stones in the footloose
department myself. Anyhow, Carol had this good idea: I'd spend
some days with her, then we would meet at some remote location,
and I would be handed off so I could see my father, make sure
he hasn't done anything altogether too foolish, and so on.

We decided on a restaurant in Fulton recommended by Carol's
buddies Art and Kathy, the oZ Chophouse (pronounced oh zee,
pretentiously). It's about halfway - 20-something miles from
either place, so Jonathan could get his fix of driving while
my father could not be too far from a restroom (something
that becomes increasingly important as one gets older). It's
brand spanking new, pretty spiffy for out in the boonies -
but I can't think of it as out in the boonies any more, as
more and more people with lots of disposable income move out
and buy these mini-palaces ten miles from nowhere.

oZ (pronounced oh zee) is in one of these new malls that is
made up to look like a real community, complete with dummy
second-floor apartments, stylized fake church steeples, and
the like. Trendy and obnoxious. The place itself looks like
the yuppie magnet that it is, with a menu and drink list to
match (wines up to a couple hundred).

We were greeted by a young layabout of a host and handed off
to a pleasant and industrious black waitress; both of them
said "welcome to the oh zee Chophouse." As we looked like live
ones, the four of us were seated at a round-table six-top,
which was too big, so we used about 2/3 of it, no surprise.

The menu has trendy appetizers and sandwiches and steaks
at lunch; a slightly more expanded version at dinner.
Though it was Sunday, we managed to get the lunch menu,
which I guess was fine - Carol was the only one who had
something that wasn't on the dinner menu as well, and I
bet it could be got in the evening on request.

Bread was this slightly too salty herb bread that you
get in trendy houses altogether too frequently: I think it
comes half-baked like Pepperidge Farm rolls, and one dumps
it in the oven for ten minutes, and there you go. Butter
was also salty.

My father went with the famous "lobster chowdah with a
knuckle sandwich" - this was a substantial bowl of not
very concentrated bisque with a small sandwich of knuckle
and claw meat in a puff pastry turnover thing floating in
the middle. It was okay, the lobster meat fine, but the
liquid didn't have that nice deep flavor that I would prefer
in a lobster soup. After that he had the lobster brie
quesadilla, which was exceedingly plain, more claw meat
(but not much more; I'd say 2 oz) and little wedges of
cheese (with rind) in a flour tortilla. There was this
green chopped stuff that added not much more flavor -
turned out it was green apples (the menu describes it as
"green apple pico"), pretty unseasoned. On the whole I
think he got the worst deal.

Whenever French onion soup is on the menu, my brother
gets it. He got it and pronounced it good, though salty.
There wasn't much cheese, and the crouton beneath was
crisp - both good signs. He followed it with a 12-oz
sirloin strip medium, which he liked, and a twice-baked
stuffed potato, which I guess he liked, as he scarfed it
right down (everything is a la carte, but single orders
of potatoes or veg are only $3, with doubles at $5).

Carol too started with the lobster chowdah, then had a
sirloin burger medium-rare with blue cheese and various
other things; this looked good, and I tried a nibble of
an end that didn't have so much rat, er, cheese on it:
pretty beefy. House-made potato chips, a little
overcooked, accompanied. Other burgers are available,
on the trendy side: Kobe beef; turkey; veggie; buffalo;
and tuna. Maybe a mushroom one too.

I asked if I could get a 16-oz flatiron steak ... the
waitress, who was quite pleasant and accommodating, went
and asked the kitchen; answer: negative. The excuse being
that the cut didn't allow it, which is bull, as one can
either cut a double flat piece or a single whole piece with
the gristle remaining in the middle; I guess they didn't
want to be bothered at 3 in the afternoon, either that or
they get them precut. But I could of course get two 8-oz
ones, which I did. They were pretty decent, although rubbed
with some kind of seasoned salt and them garnished with a
pat of herb butter. I scraped much of this exterior off
before eating, in much the same way as I scraped the sauce
off the pork the other day. Next time I will have to say
"naked, please." The steaks were almost as rare as I like
and extremely tender. I really do enjoy this cut of meat
(touted on the menu as a new cut, as though cattle were
born without blade steaks before a week ago), as it's
nicely beefy, being from my favorite part of the animal,
the chuck, and more tender than most of the chuck and in
fact - unless you seize the muscle up by cooking it past
medium - tenderer than sirloin.

Carol and I split an order of creamed spinach, which was
quite disappointing: frozen whole-leaf spinach baked with
for an insufficient time with onion salt and cream cheese,
which was hardly melted. The spinach was tough, and cream
cheese is annoying. It could have been much improved with
a tiny bit of care: chopping the spinach (doable even while
it's still frozen), incorporating the cheese into a sauce
before putting it with the spinach, and baking for just
maybe five or ten more minutes.

As a cocktail and with the appetizers we had the Sokol
Blosser Evolution, a blend of mostly German white varietals
- quite aromatic, with a rich rather sweet floral nose and
stone fruit and citrus and a touch of sweetness on the palate.
Rich mouthfeel. Not a bad wine for $15 (doubled here, of
course), halfway between a glugging wine and a sipping one.

With the steak, some kind of forgettable red ... a Rhone
style perhaps, but too dull for words - I used it just to
wash down the salt, which it did well.

Surprisingly, my father signed the bill: his signature is
getting mighty shaky, though, and I wonder how long he can
stay in the house.

Verdict: would probably go back, order a steak, tell them
to lose the stupid seasoning and butter. No spinach.

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