I was definitely into the idea of it, though at first I was a little intimidated since the waiting/bar area was wall-to-wall men in khakis. But I quickly got into the old-school surroundings, ordered a whiskey sour and even snuck my fingers into the sauce boat while perusing the menu (which screams novice--they ask if you want a menu, assuming you know exactly what you're there for)

I opted for the shrimp cocktail instead of the onion and tomato salad that appeared to be de rigeur. Steak for two followed, and a side of creamed spinach. The fries seemed like overkill--maybe next time. The meat was medium rare and fine as can be. You could feel years being shaved from your life as the waiter ladled the rich pan juices over the steak. But birthdays are about coming to terms with your mortality anyway, right? The meal closed with a shared slice of pecan pie coupled with an entire bowl of whipped cream. No joke, it was almost as impressive as the meat itself.

It was creepy fun watching the power salesmen at the communal table next to us. Who's to say what their actual profession was, but a sleazy internet vibe was definitely in the air. Company parties are a strange ritual, not that I would know first hand as I've only been a part of miserly start-ups gone (going) bad. A pizza party would be asking too much in my case.

The evening was satisfying, yet with that all said, I'm now going to be an ungrateful wretch for a moment. I don't go in for spendy, overhyped clothes, neighborhoods, clubs and the like, but when it comes to food I don't mind indulging my fancy every now and then, especially when it comes to special occasions. Don't get me wrong, I was raised on a strict meat and potatoes diet (nary a fresh vegetable graced my plate), but after Peter Luger for my birthday and Churrascaria Plataforma for Valentine's Day, I wouldn't say no to something more...er, refined next time 'round. I'm a lady, dammit. Mabye 30 will herald the aesthetic experience I'm seeking. (7/25/01)

On a whim, James called for reservations the Sunday before Independence Day, and was surprised by a 7:45 quote. However, when we showed up he was not on the list, the host scoffed at the fact that we thought we would could get a seat a mere four days in advance, and my blood started boiling. Then they found his name on a waiting list. We weren't told about a waiting list on the phone, or why would we have bothered showing up? Anyway, we were seated, as the place was not filled to capacity. Steak is steak at Peter Luger. The new discovery was the grilled, thick, perfect Canadian bacon served in strips as an appetizer. I thought about it for days afterward. (7/4/02)