neurological dryer lint

renee and i hit up the precinct last night. i'd been to a jeff ruby joint once (the tropicana down in newport, best steak i'd ever had), and expectations were high due to the legendary status of this place.

so we roll in... we're led through a maze of small rooms and mirrors and we end up in what appears as a wine-cellar-themed room - stone walls, wine racks, and bare pipes running around everywhere.

really bare pipes. with condensation on the outside. right next to our table. which ended up getting me soaked. a little too realistic. apparently it didn't dawn on them that people don't like to actually feel like they're eating in their basement when they're in a nice restaurant.

that aside, the place was excellent. renee had the 'marvin lewis', aka a new york strip, and i did the 'collinsworth', a filet with king crab. they were done perfectly (although renee's was a little too charred)... they had a 'nancy zimpher' on the menu, but it was a small sirloin, not a soulless, rotting husk, so not too accurate there.

oh and jeff ruby hit on my wife. he was sitting at the bar with the maitre'd and when i went up to get her coat, apparently he turned on the pimp juice. she gave him the heisman, though, so i guess even though i don't own a dozen high priced restaurants i'm still in :)

we're heading up to chicago with darren and emily here in a while. its gonna be FREEZING up there.

always use the woolite cycle!