… to my skinniness.
If there’s a place I should frequent to quickly improve my willow look and strengthen my Texas tie, it’d be the House of Prime Ribs on Van Ness Avenue. I might have lived in the Bay for too long and hung out with too many vegetarian, environmentally conscious, ethical-eater friends that sometimes the thought crosses my mind; except I always feel extremely hungry on my vegan days so I don’t think I can give up cookies and ice cream. Thankfully, I also have a number of fleischliebend friends who keep me from straying by putting me face to face with a slab of tender, juicy red meat. All ethical thoughts begone, I helplessly grabbed the knife and fork.
I actually got a gasp, a deep sigh and a disapproving look from my company when I asked that my prime rib be medium. The men asked for “as raw as possible” because they wanted to “taste the meat”. Men… I could taste my medium meat just fine.
The second difference between their dinner and mine is the size. There are four sizes (and a kid size with milk and ice cream, which kinda sounds attractive to me :-P); I got the smallest size, of course. They got the second largest and the largest (the King Cut), which qualify for an extra slice of meat if they so desire after finishing the first cut. The King Cut is 27 ounces, with a bone, wider than my spread hand and roughly one inch thick.
The third difference is the condiment. They smothered their rare prime ribs with horseradish cream sauce, making a dreamy cleansing beef sashimi; I eat my meat pure in its own juice.
The last difference is the accompanying drink. They paired their meal with a red Zinfandel, I paired mine with water. (Who can taste the meat now. :-P)
But that’s about it. There is not much room to wiggle in your order. There’s a choice between creamed spinach and creamed corn, which was added when there was the salmonella scare among the spinaches, but everyone recommended the creamed spinach anyway. Then there’s a choice between baked and mashed potato, and as long as one of us got the baked potato, we got to watch the waiter mix and dump a dollop of sour cream onto the potato in just the amount of time that he says “first we fluff, then we stuff”. I like that I don’t have to think much when I come here, simply set the carnivore loose and enjoy.
But in all honesty the meat isn’t the best part of the meal, it’s the salad with the house celery salt dressing and the vegan breadstick that come before the meat. Besides, I was sufficiently full after the salad.
At the end of the King Cut, Mike skipped the bone (which I think is the best part) and gently downed another slice of beef. I admire the American appetite.
We did do dessert, and if you must ask, the strawberry in the strawberry shortcake was better than the shortcake, which, being a few hairs too dense, was one of two slight disappointments for me at the House. The other is the 45 minutes spent at the bar despite having a reservation. Either the House likes efficiency and semi overbooks, or they’re being considerate enough to give us a wait in preparation for the gargantuan meal. In return, I got to watch the barmaid and reassured myself that I can never be one. 🙂
Address: House of Prime Rib (open for dinner only)
1906 Van Ness Ave.
San Francisco, CA
(415) 885-4605
I dunno, you are pretty cute, even if you are willowy. I would have to go with the men on the rare and horseradish though. Although I agree that the gnawing on the bone is really where the best meat is.
Hehehe :D. Perhaps one day I’ll try the rare to see what the difference is, but it always sounds so… uncooked. It’s a mentality thing. Same with condiments to add at the table, like the horseradish, it’s just my habit not to use any condiments, not even salt and pepper. Once a dish is done cooking, I don’t add anything to it.
Such a purist, not even ketchup? 😛
Yea, not even ketchup. 😛 There’s one exception though: (mixed) fish sauce. 😛
You mix it, that waters down the intensity 😉
I love that place. As does my whole family. It’s old-school and nobody dose prime rib better.