The offending ribeye:
About a week ago I met the gang at Taylor's Steakhouse in La Canada. I hadn't been to the La Canada branch in about 7 years, I normally go to the Koreatown branch, but I remembered that the food was always excellent, the steaks were cooked perfectly, the mashed potatoes were hot, and the salad was cold (I find that it's usually the other way around in many LA restaurants.)
I was happy to see that they had a bone-in ribeye on the menu because that is one of my favorite steaks. I had the same steak back in November at the Koreatown branch and it was fabulous and perfectly cooked.
The salad was not as good as I remembered and it needed a lot of salt. The steak arrives, oh boy! Oh boy! was right: the mashed were great, nice and hot, but I noticed that my steak was cooked medium-well when I asked for it medium-rare. I also noticed that most people at the table had ordered their steaks to be cooked medium to medium-well and their steaks were cooked to a perfect medium-rare. What was going on? I assumed that the cook must have mixed up my cooking time for Ducati Dude's who was sitting next to me.
So when the waitress came around again to check up on us I told her that my steak was overcooked. No, she says, that is medium-rare for the ribeye. I point to Ducati Dude's steak and I say no, that's medium-rare. She says, oh, no, that's medium-rare for that cut of steak. Ok, so I'm about to release the beast because how stupid does she think I am? With steaks of different thicknesses you have to adjust the cooking times. Again I have to point out that my steak was no way near medium-rare and she says, well, did you cut it in the middle? And I'm like I don't have to cut it in the middle because it should be medium-rare here too.
I know what you are thinking Dear Reader: why hasn't this bitch taken away NoodleWhore's steak and gotten her a new one already? Wait, it gets better. So she grabbed my fork and my steak knife and she proceeded to vivisect my steak. Oh, great! Now my steak has a serious case of camel toe and it looks, well, vulgar. She then said to me: see, that's medium-rare (which it was not) and I say, may I see a manager please?
The manager came over to me with a flashlight (!) and looked at my steak and tried to pull-off the medium-well is medium-rare bs but I stood my ground and FINALEMENT someone offered me a new steak. When the waitress left the manager confided in me that she had told the waitress to just get me a new steak but that the waitress insisted that she come out with the flashlight to prove me wrong. Where are your cajones Missy? I told her that the flashlight was very insulting.
When you pay $33 for a steak that turns out to be not so good (I can get a great ribeye, alas sans bone, at Trader Joe's for $10 and cook it perfectly in my Viking convection broiler) you at least should get it cooked the way you want it cooked.
The evening ended on a surprising highnote though. Passport Dining Queen aka Mrs. Ducati Dude discovered a newly opened chocolate shop down the street. The ten of us blew the moldy joint and rushed to the chocolate shop. It was their opening day and the owner could not have been more accomodating and gracious (he should teach lessons to the Taylor's staff). The shop, Chocolate Box, had very unique Belgian chocolates and gelato that they said came from Italy (it was ok, not as good as I've tasted in Italy.)