First up was dinner at
Friday afternoon I visited one of my old haunts in the FiDi with one of my former co-workers. Bistro Burger was just as good as I remembered. I think they have expanded their menu since I moved, but I went with an old, familiar favorite. The Paris Burger is topped with brie and sauteed mushrooms. With a side of Frings, I was one happy girl.
Friday night I took my parents to Harris' steakhouse to jointly celebrate my dad's 74th birthday and Mother's Day. The maitre'd was slightly too stiff and formal when we arrived, which was a little offputting. Fortunately our server was a dream and more than made up for it. My mom and I started off with crab cakes in a beurre blanc sauce, while my dad tackled the gulf prawn cocktail. My family tend to eat family style even when items aren't served in such a fashion, so we all swapped our plates around. The shrimp cocktail was okay; I would have preferred a bit more bite to the cocktail sauce. The crab cakes were totally delish. More crab, less cakey filler and perfectly sauced. For entrees we all had some version of a filet mignon, even my very Catholic mom who we talked out of ordering the salmon. I didn't try my parents' steaks because they prefer it much more cooked than I do, but they seemed pleased. I had the Filet Mignon Rossini, which came with grilled foie gras and a black truffle/cabernet sauce. YUM. For dessert my dad managed to snag one of the last slices of a Meyer lemon tart, while I opted for Harris' take on strawberry shortcake (strawberries and whipped cream on a white chocolate macadamia but scone). Again, YUM.
Stiff maitre'd aside, there was only one thing that really detracted from the entire experience which had nothing to do with the restaurant staff at all. One of the reasons I chose Harris' for dinner with my parents is because it is a upscale place with a generally older clientele. In other words, it's not known for being very loud. Some of the younger clientele however, seem to have never learned about the value of using one's indoor voice. There were two tables in particular on our side of the restaurant that were loud and obnoxious. Some things just aren't appropriate in certain places. Shrieking that startles patrons on the far opposite side of a large, full room is one of them. So is throwing around the f-bomb in conversation at the top of one's lungs.
1 comment:
I don't screech the f-bomb, but I have been shushed several times in restaurants. Eeks. ;)
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