Poking around...

Yeah.  Apparently, this guy could hit a little.

...a bit on Baseball-Reference.com.

Ted Williams.

He took the three years off from ages 24-26 to serve in WWII.  He hit 521 home runs in his career, while TAKING THREE YEARS OFF.  Oh.  Wait.  There's more.

He averaged 97 games a season his last 9 years in the league.  In fact, over his career he only played in 78% of the games available to him WHEN HE WASN'T OUT KILLING PEOPLE IN THE WAR.

Let's do some math on that, shall we?

He played in 63% of the games available to him for the last 9 years of his career, and TOOK THREE FULL FUCKING SEASONS OFF.  And still hit 521 home runs.  Babe Ruth averaged 128 games a year for his last 9 seasons.  If Williams had just played at his average output for 128 games per season in his last 9 years,  he'd have hit another 63 HR's.  Add in the approximate 105 or so he would have gotten over the THREE FULL FUCKING SEASONS HE WAS FLYING PLANES IN THE WAR, and you're looking at 689 HR's for his career.  As a left handed hitter playing half his games in Fenway.  I've been there.  Lefties don't get cheap home runs in the park.  It's a LONG way to the power alley in right field.  Sure, you can wrap one around Pesky's Pole in right, but that's a weird way to hit a home run...and as good as Teddy Ballgame was, I can't imagine he was able to manipulate ball flight that much.

Oh wait.  There's more.

His On Base Percentage was .488.  He was on base basically every other plate appearance. His Batting Average was .344 for HIS FUCKING CAREER.  He had 2654 hits.  While playing only two thirds of the games his last nine years and TAKING THREE FUCKING SEASONS OFF IN THE PRIME OF HIS YOUTH TO FIGHT IN THE WAR.  Extrapolate a bit, and he's EASILY in the 3200 hit club.

Babe Ruth will ALWAYS be the greatest player...and until someone wins a World Series game or two as a pitcher, while batting .342 for his career, hitting 714 HR's and having an OPS of 1.164, he will ALWAYS be the best.

Ted Williams might have been the greatest hitter.

Maybe.

Musings....

Theatre is something that is so vital to me, yet I try so hard to pretend that I can take it or leave it.  However, when an opportunity/experience like "A Little Night Music" enters my life, well, I get all..."oh yeah." 

I had a wonderful time doing the show.  Sometimes it was hard on my family.  I cannot ever express to them how much I know they give up for me.  Selfish, I am.  A less selfish man would probably stop.  Like right now.  Likewise, a more selfish man would probably not even acknowledge the amount of time it does take.  For now, I am still struggling to find that balance.  Oft times, I get wrapped up in my own stuff.  Randy, Randy, Randy.  You know the way it is with me.

Other times, I get out of my way, and realize that I do this not only selfishly, but unselfishly.  Unselfishly sounds silly when there is so much "glory" involved with this.  But, I need it in order to be a better husband, a better Daddy, and a better Randy.  Many times I get that wrong.  Eventually, I hope, those that care about me realize why I'm there.  Sometimes, that fails. Striking the balance is something that I struggle with, and for that, I apologize.  Yikes, this is getting maudlin. 

I had a wonderful time doing the show, meeting new people, strutting, being "on."  Hard as it may seem to believe, I really liked the people I was playing with.  Overly talented, overly nice, overly patient, and overly qualified; the cast was a delight.  Plenty of kudos to go around.  Everyone was just great. 

Years have taken their toll on me.  One show after another has blended into each other.  Unfortunately, I've become jaded.  Like so many others, it loses its magic at times.  I need to say a big thank you to the people I worked with for helping me remember why I love it so.  Kidding aside, you were a wonderful group of people.  Every one of you. 

I won't soon forget it.

Thank you.

Wanna see something sexy?

I'll bet you do. 

Today I'm writing about my favorite sex scene in any film I've watched.  Even a couple of films of a more adult nature.  You know, the VERY FEW that I've watched. 

I'll be showing the clip below, but first the inevitable talk show question:

"Tell me, Randy, does this clip need any set up?"

YES.  Yes it does.  I'll go long form.  The film is hardly available any more, and you probably will never see it. 

The name of the film is "The Music Teacher."  It is a Belgian film that was nominated for Best Foreign Film at the Academy Awards.  It is a sumptuous, delicious feast dedicated to the love of music.  And the love of love.  And the love of lust.  Not so much lust, but more the love of love.

The film begins by showing an aging baritone (played by Jose Van Dam - someone with whom THE AUTHOR has performed) named Dallayrac performing in a recital.  In attendance is an old rival of his, Prince Scotti.  Prince Scotti, it turns out was once a bit of a performer himself, until, when in competition with Dallayrac, his voice broke, and he was never the same.  As Dallayrac is singing, a note becomes strained just ever so subtly.  Scotti bolts upright in his seat.  Dallayrac stops the performance and announces that his (previously unplanned) retirement begins that evening. 

Flash forward a bit.  Dallayrac is sent a GORGEOUS (and I mean GORGEOUS) woman to whom he is requested to give voice lessons.  Sophie is 18, played by Anne Roussel, and she is gorgeous.  I LOVE European women.  Something about licentiousness yet faith just drips off of them.  It should also be noted that Dallayrac's wife, Estelle, played by Sylvie Fennec, has a similar hotness, but not quite the same physical beauty.  She's still sexy as hell.

Sorry.  Had to towel off.  I'm back.

Dallayrac proceeds with the lessons for Sophie.  It is established that Sophie immediately starts to fall for her teacher.  It is also established by Estelle that despite how hard he is being on Sophie, he will fall in love with Sophie, and that the wife understands this.  Sophie is also made aware of the coming crush. 

As he is walking the market one day, Dallayrac hears a handsome, but poor beggar/pickpocket (it's been a while, I can't remember if he was a thief), Jean (played by Philippe Volter), singing softly to himself while strolling amongst the people.  Nothing astounding, but Dallayrac hears something in his voice.  He tells him he will make him into the world's greatest tenor if he's willing to give in to his teaching.  How Dallayrac knew the quality of his voice is mysterious, but it lends itself to the magical nature of the movie.  Eventually the two young pupils are introduced, and immediately smitten.  But she is still in love with Dallyrac, and Dallayrac is most assuredly in love with her.

Flash forward some more.  Prince Scotti has a pupil of his own, an incredibly cocky, arrogant tenor with a BAD haircut. A competition is being held, in which the three pupils will all be competing,the two tenors against each other, and Sophie on her own.  It is a showdown between Dallayrac and Scotti.  Not to spoil the whole ending, but the video below shows Sophie performing her piece in the competition.  She is joined (carefully hidden behind a curtain) by Jean in song.  This is the sex scene.

I've seen sex.  I've seen lots of sex.  I've seen lots of seduction leading to people throwing their clothes on the floor, devouring each other in whatever manner they see fit.

I'd never experienced in film before the sheer joy/seduction of singing with another human being.  Watch this scene.  It is wonderfully acted.  It is full of desire, lust, love, satisfaction, empowerment, care, giving, sharing, just EVERYTHING that sex is.  And not a single garment is dropped.  Not a single body part is kissed.  Not a single appendage is touched.  It's just sex.  In its most heady form.  And I absolutely love it.  It's right. It's sexy.  It's HOT.

I hope you like it too.

The old guy at the table is Scotti.  The young man with the bad haircut is the other tenor.  Jean is behind the curtain.  Sophie is singing.  Jean and Sophie are the two that make love.  Dallayrac is at home with his wife.

Enjoy.

I'm not linking to it...

...but it's here somewhere. 

There was a blogpost I wrote in an angry state. 

That friend and I have renewed our friendship.

I'm lucky. 

Like a week...

...to go and there's a lot to do.

And not.

I've had a very good time doing this show thus far.  It's been a long time since I've acted in a show I hadn't done before, and it's been longer since I've had to wait backstage at any point in a show.  In fact...I'm not sure when the last time that happened was.

I believe this was built shortly after Mark, Stan
and I did "1776" together back in 1985.

I should complain...

I've been fortunate this time around to get to meet some great people.  I've also been fortunate to get to reconnect with some LONG TIME friends/fellow performers, etc. etc.

Three of us in this show acted together in 1985.  We all look exactly the same, of course.

I'm rambling.  Hey.  Maybe that's what I'm supposed to be doing.  I got on Twitter this week.  My handle is @frayed_knott.  So.  I get to be hilarious in 140 characters or less.

The truly important I'll save for here.

Wait.  This is a fluff piece.

Dammit.

Can't wait for next week.

I've tried to remain out of it...

...but I can't help myself.

Why, oh why, do the Republicans continue to nominate people for the office of President?

The last two elections, in a nutshell:

Fox News, Rush, Hannity, Savage, Beck, Coulter, Malkin, et al  all line up AGAINST the presumed nominee in the primaries.  They throw their weight behind ideologues who couldn't win a general election if they tried.  They did it to McCain in 2008, and they did it again to Romney in 2012.  The sane portion of the GOP votes in primaries for the candidate that they believe might actually win, because THEY'RE PROBABLY THE MOST PROPERLY SKILLED FOR THE JOB.  McCain was in 2008, and Romney certainly appeared that way in 2012.  Romney may have a lot of John Kerry in him, but McCain was an astute choice. 

So, the hard right faction goes hard after the centrist candidate during the primaries.  The centrist candidate wins the nomination, because that's HOW IT SHOULD BE.  Then, something completely inexplicable happens.  All the hard right faction lines up behind the nominee once it is obvious who it is...WHO THEN PANDERS TO THE HARD RIGHT LINE OF BULLSHIT, making themselves completely unelectable.

Why? 

Barack Obama has been impressively beatable in both the last two elections.  The pandering, pendantic choice of Sarah Palin in 2008 nuked McCain's chances, and Romney's inability to be himself at any point in this election once it was obvious he was the candidate, all the while making buffoonish and clownish gaffes and pleas to those who control the will of the GOP (well, at least the radical portion of it). 

This is a party which is in desperate need of an enema. 

And what will happen?

Romney is going to lose.  He's going to lose an easily winnable election.  Afterward, the GOP will blame the candidate, not their own party's ideology.  And they will be horribly, horribly wrong.

And they will continue to lose, until they figure out what is plainly in front of their own noses.  Most of America is in the middle.  They used to appeal to those people. 

Apparently, for the big job, they no longer feel that's necessary. 

Welcome to Clinton 2016.  'Cause you know that's what's coming. 

I'm back...

Yeah, that guy looks like a
REAL big stretch for me.

...after a LONG delay.

I have to confess, the steakhouse thing took a lot out of me, creatively.  While it was a pleasure to write so much, and a pleasure to share, it was also a task.  I'm whining. 

There is much to share, and I plan to do so, but I need to talk about something funny today.

I have been cast in the show "A Little Night Music" at Village Theatre Guild in Glen Ellyn.  I am playing the role of the dragoon, Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm.  Yes, it was important to put all those names/titles in there. 

The show is populated with insanely talented people that I have either worked with before, known through reputation and been waiting to work with, or new people that I've never met.  It is a big ol' mutual admiration society, and I'm proud to be involved.

Where am I going with this? 

Right here.  The character I'm playing is not that much of a stretch, in some regards, and in others exactly the opposite of me.  I attended my first rehearsal last night.  Since I do not like to burden a director with too many questions about character early on (ever), I've been doing a lot of pondering about the role.  I am a firm believer in the story of your character being in the text.  Listen to what others say about you.  Listen to what you say.  Think about their station in life.

Carl-Magnus is an insufferable, vain, arrogant, self-absorbed prick.  That part is not the stretch for me.  That, I'm fairly certain, I can find.

The part that I'm struggling with today (AFTER ONE REHEARSAL - Dear God, I am whining), is that he is also clueless, or at least seems to be a little slow.  But is he really?  I'm struggling with whether he is just a man of faith, who always believes himself to be right, who believes that no one lies to him, and trusts in himself and life.  Or, conversely, is he clueless?   Does that make it easier on the audience?  Believe it or not, this matters.  

I have always looked for the deeper moments in any character I play.  I, as a director, will often cast someone based on what I believe to be the most important moment and which of the candidates I believe will be able to show me that convincingly.  It sometimes comes down to one sentence, as it did for me when I cast Dierdre in "I Hate Hamlet."   

So, in my quest, there are several references to Carl-Magnus and his military service.  I Googled "Carl-Magnus in war."  Know what I found?  FAN FICTION.  BRILLIANT FAN FICTION.  I'm not sure I can use any of it, as ultimately my role will be shaped by the director, but I am enjoying the hell out of the research. 

This has rambled a bit.  I'm looking forward to this production.  I'm looking forward to forwarding my research.  I'm looking forward to the moment when I can ask the director what he sees, and IT'S NOT AFTER ONE REHEARSAL AND WAY TOO SOON.  Since this is public, I believe I just did. 

Anyway, it's good to be back.  More to come...

Gene and Georgetti: Miss Chicago Steakhouse for December

I believe this completes the set. 

Well.  We did it.  Amy and I made it to all 13 steakhouses last year.  I started this project as....well....I don't know.  I'm a critic at heart, so I started it to allow me to write critiques.  I started it because I'm not a "foodie" and Yelp!, etc. just are too short on their reviews, or tell me about things I don't want to know.  I wanted to write stories about our experiences with fine dining here in Chicago.  I started it so I could go out with my wife once a month.  I started it to get to all the steakhouses I hadn't been to...yet.  Which is where we start this review.

For our final month we went to the granddaddy of all Chicago steakhouses, Gene and Georgetti.  We'll get there.  Let's handle the preliminaries.

Previous months' reviews are:  Joe's Seafood, Prime Steak and Stone Crab; Keefer's Restaurant; Gibsons Bar and Steakhouse; Morton's: The Steakhouse; David Burke's Primehouse; Rosebud Steakhouse; N9NE Steakhouse; Fogo de Chao; Benny's Chop House; Chicago Cut Steakhouse; Chicago Chop House and Wildfire.  Please feel free to click on the links.  This blog seems to be gaining readership (it could be some spammy thing - who knows?).  Anyway, those are cheap page views for me, so feel free to visit.

Speaking of cheap page views....after the Gibsons review got so much attention with the use of an adult film star....well....I'm a whore.  I'll do that again.  So.  Here's a Safe For Work photo of someone I understand is in adult films, or so I'm told. 

And, as per usual...if you click on these blue underlined words, you'll get taken away magically over the interwebs to something that I think is a funny way to illustrate my point.  I'm probably wrong, but it's my blog, so tough shit.

Looks like a pancake house menu you'd find on vacation.

One more thought.  Sometime in March I'm going to write some sort of summary of this adventure, comparing the different places and rank some of the things we liked.  I also have a couple of amusing stories that don't really fit in any one review.  So.  Look forward to that.

On with it.

When I thought of this, there were several places I had wanted to go to for years, but never took the time, or whatever, to get my ass in the door.  These were Gibsons, Fogo de Chao, Chicago Chop House and Gene and Georgetti.  The reasons behind each "wish list" place were different.  In the case of Gene and Georgetti, it was for one main reason....history.  Opening its doors in 1941, Gene and Georgetti was founded by two Italian immigrants, Gene Michelotti and Alfredo "Georgetti" Federighi.   Located right under the El tracks at Franklin and Illinois, the place has hosted more celebrities than Heidi Fleiss.  Unlike Ms. Fleiss, the celebrities are happy to have their pictures on the walls at Gene and Georgetti. 

The night we dined was December 10.  The weather was coolish, but not cold.  Winter has not taken hold in Chicago yet (IN FEBRUARY), and we have had a ridiculously warm stretch, including a green Christmas.  Yeah.  Global warming is a myth.  That's a blog for another day.  Anyway, the day was jam-packed with activity for me.  I had a workshop with my sons at the local Lowe's, a meeting with a fellow thespian, then dinner reservations, followed by tickets to the theatre at 10 p.m.  In between dinner and the show, we planned to hit State Street and look at the Macy's windows (It ain't Marshall Field's anymore people...and for that matter it's not the Sears Tower either.  Get over it.) and the gigantic tree in the Walnut Room.  We then were going to head out for a carriage ride...which happened to be departing at Daley Plaza during Christkrindlmarket or however the fuck you spell it.  It's the big German Christmas fest in Daley Plaza.  My point is there was a lot of living going on in my life that day. 

One last steak for the road....

Arriving at G&G (I ain't typing Gene and Georgetti anymore) about 10 minutes LATE (AHHH!) for our reservations, we found STREET PARKING less than 50 feet from the door!  Yeehaw!  Granted, given the meter system in Chi town, it still cost us $6 to park, but it was better than the $12-$18 (with tip) to use a valet.  I'm liking this place already, and I haven't even gotten to the door yet.  The door is right on the corner, with a neon/plastic lit up sign above it.  Nothing fancy.  No airs.  In fact, I think I had a hard time actually spotting the valet, if memory serves. 

Walking through the door, the first thing you get to is the bar on your right, with some coat hangers next to it.  There are a few tables in the room.  What you don't see is a host station.  It's there.  But, you don't see it.  So, here's a tip.  It's at the end of the bar, farthest point from the door.  We walked right past it and into another dining room looking for our check-in spot.  I know we were not the only ones, but had it been a midnight showing of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" - well, we woulda had a crowd of people scream "VIRGINS!" as we paused with a befuddled look on our faces.  Also in the room is a gigantic poster of Lucille Ball, which is signed, and a whole bunch of other celebrity photos.  The bar is a bar.  Like, it could be a bar anywhere else in the city.  Nothing fancy, just a bar.  Above the bar is a saying which I'm going to put here.  I like it.  I don't drink, but it's good advice for those that do. 

Good advice. 

After locating the host station, we were greeted by the owner, who passed us off to a guy with a walkie talkie who led us upstairs to the second floor dining room, and passed us off to the guy he had been chatting with on the walkie talkie.  Our reservations were for 6 p.m.  That time has spelled lots of empty tables for a lot of the places we have been, but G&G was pretty damned crowded.  There were a few tables empty here and there, but not many.  The place was positively bustling.  We were seated in a corner table overlooking the dining room.  I'm gonna get this out of the way now.  There is a video segment on G&G on the Travel Channel's "Steak Paradise 2:  Second Helping."  Here is the link to it.  We were seated in the room that has the painting that the owner talks about.  That was kinda cool.  Behind us was another room with a fireplace.  The place seemed to go on forever.  I'm not sure how many floors there were, but we were in what looked to be a third to a quarter of the second floor. 

The decor in our room was decidedly Italian, with columns adorning the walls, the large mural painting, and a white hue to the room.  I was glad we were in that room. 

We were given our menus.  Old timey.  They don't appear to have changed them since 1941.  We also met our server for the evening.  Never got his name.  He was Italian.  He had the accent.  It was like being at Peter Luger's, where all the waiters are German.  He was attentive.  He was professional.  He was not gruff, but I don't think I'd use the word "friendly."  The guy was a pro, and made us feel welcome without making us feel like we were guests in his home.  We were guests at his employment.  Does that make sense?  It does to me.  A basket of (room temperature) bread and breadsticks was placed on the table, and we put in our drink orders.  Again, no booze, but no attitude from the waiter.  Nice.  I'm liking this place.  Except the bread.  Warm it up.  Please.  You took the time to chill the butter.  Warm the bread. 



Sausage and peppers.  Oh my.



As our drinks were coming to the table, we took some time to peruse the appetizer selection, and to peruse the clientele.  G&G is an old time place with loyal customers.  A lot of the customers know the waiters and a lot of the waiters know the customers.  It was populated with an older crowd and more families than any place else we had been on the journey.  Glancing around the room, a lot of people were not eating steak.  They were dining on seafood, or Italian dishes, etc.  There were a lot of clods of cow in front of people, don't get me wrong, but we were not in a STEAK environment. 

Perusing the appetizers, I had asked Amy about the possibilty of ordering seafood, or something similar.  She was not interested in that.  What did interest her was the Sausage and Peppers.  Italian joint, nice atmosphere, red meat on its way....what the fuck.  Let's have sausage and peppers.  We ordered the appetizer.  Let's go ahead and talk about it now.  GOOD CHOICE.  The sausage was very tasty, perfectly spicy Italian sausage.  A delicate casing held a mouthful of juicy, meaty goodness.  Yeah, baby.  Sounds sexy, right?  Anyway...now that I've toweled off...the peppers were a mix of red, yellow and green.  Lightly sauteed with the sausage, there was hint of oil on them, but they were most assuredly not drowned.  The yellow pepper was especially subtle in its flavor, delicate in texture, and just damned good eating.  I was a long time "no pepper" guy.  I like my Italian beef plain, my pizza with only toppings that have originated in some animal, and no vegetables on my hamburgers...unless ketchup and mustard are considered vegetables.  I digress.  I have acquired a taste for peppers in the last 15 or so years, and the ones served in the sausage and peppers appetizer at G&G are among the best I've ever eaten.  Period. 

This is Amy's steak.  Crusty.  Tender.  Mouthwatering.  I need a smoke.

Before the sausage and peppers had arrived at our table, we had put in our entree orders.  Know what's great about G&G?  You don't have to order salads and potatoes a la carte.  MONEY SAVED!  I got the Cottage Fries and a Salad with Thousand Island Dressing.  I also ordered my steak.  I went for what I read was the best wet-aged steak in Chicago, the T-Bone, Medium Rare.  Amy orered the Bone In Ribeye. Medium Rare, along with her potatoes and salad.  Know what's not great about G&G (at least the night we were there)?  They were out of ribeye.  Ugh.  In retrospect, it was Christmas, the place was open all day, and there were a lot of people downtown.  I guess it's understandable.  You know, in retrospect, it's kind of amazing that we didn't have to wait on our reservations given the date, the crowd, etc.  In retrospect, Moises Alou was never gonna catch that ball anyway.  Retrospect is fun.  Amy ordered the Bone In Strip, Medium Rare, as a substitute; but she was disappointed that the steak she wanted was not available. 

We were just about finished with the sausage and peppers when the steaks, potatoes and salads arrived.  It was bordering on eerie timing.  The cottage fries were outstanding.  The potatoes were cooked to tender perfection.  They were crispy.  They were potatoes.  A starch.  I'm glad I don't have to review potatoes anymore.  The salads were just standard Iceberg Lettuce greens.  The dressing was very good.  Obviously homemade, it was really tangy and really tasty.  Good dressing, G&G!  All this is a warm up to the entrees:  the steaks.

Yup.  That's fork tender steak.  I was pulling chunks off of each other
with my fork.  Drool.  You're allowed.

OK.  My T-bone steak is not the best wet-aged steak in Chicago.  Not by my taste, anyway.  That does not mean that what I ate wasn't FREAKING DELICIOUS, but it means I've had better - not many though.  USDA Prime, wet-aged steak that had been expertly charred on the outside, yet perfectly pink on the inside, my steak was very, very, very good.  The filet portion of my T-bone was exceptionally big for a T-bone.  Hell, it was big for a Porterhouse.  Tearing into the strip portion of my steak as a "filler" before the meat dessert that is the filet portion, I was amazed at how tender it was.  I've gotten into slow-cooking and smoking meat this last year.  One of the things about slow cooking is the tenderness that is achieved, allowing you to pull the meat apart.  Pulled pork.  It's not just a clever name.  Ready for this?  My strip side was bordering on fork tender.  Like, I could almost pull chunks of it away.  That was but a warmup for the filet.  The filet WAS fork tender.  FORK TENDER STEAK.  Over there on the side is photographic evidence.  I don't know how they did that, but that was amazing.  It was almost Prime Rib tender.  For the uninitiated, Prime Rib is a ribeye steak that has been slow cooked rather than quick seared.  (Don't worry - I didn't know that until like 3 months ago)  Overall, I'd give my steak an OH MY GOD! THAT WAS GOOD! rating. 

Amy's steak was similarly cooked, similarly tender, and also delicious.  While it wasn't her ribeye, it was a fine substitute.  She wound up taking half of it home, and it was just as good as leftovers. 

This place has been in business a LONG time.  It was obvious as to why.  The steaks were reasonably priced (unless you don't go to steakhouses once a month to compare...I mean, who would be stupid enough to do that?...Oh....wait....), and they were cooked with care.  There's a reason why places are still full after 60+ years in business, and there's a reason why places that you know are great struggle.  Care.  Take the time with the details.  That's what the people want, and that's what will keep them coming in your door.

The final food.

Finally, it was dessert time.  Amy and I really had no struggle with this.  We were offered, among many other choices, something called Chocolate Tuxedo Mousse Cheesecake.  That's four really good words in one dessert.  No brainer.  If it had missed the "Mousse" or the "Tuxedo," we might have passed.  That combination of four words sealed the deal.  The dessert was exquisite.  Among the best desserts we ate this year, it was precisely what you'd expect of all those words.  Light with the mousse, a little heavy with the cheesecake, and FUCKING CHOCOLATE.  I'm a chick in regards to a lot of things.  Chocolate is one of them.  The dessert was a lovely wrap up to a lovely dinner. 

As a matter of fact, it was a lovely wrap up to a lovely year.  It was the last bite of food we ate on this journey.  We savored them, reflecting on all the great food we had enjoyed the last year.  I even felt a little maudlin when I realized it was over.  We did it, though.  13 steakhouses in 13 months.  Each one reviewed for your (my) reading pleasure right here.  What a great trip.  Thank you for being part of it.

Guess our year of steakhouses is over.

It's February.  I know.  I've taken a long time finishing this.  In March, I PROMISE, I will post a wrap up talking about all the places we went, and ranking them, etc.  In the meantime, let's leave this review on its own.

NUTS and BOLTS:

We got out with our shirts on.  The whole meal was just over $170, including tip.  G&G is reasonably priced for the quantity and quality of food that you get.  It's not reasonbly priced if you go to Outback.  Know what?  If you go to Outback, why are you reading this?

Decor is decidedly Italian, and very 40's.  That's fun. 

Family-ish atmosphere.  There seemed to be a lot of kids there (which means there were a few...). 

Waitstaff has a reputation for turning tables in rude fashion.  We didn't find that to be true, but it wasn't "friendly."  I'd call it professional.  Nothing wrong with that. 

I don't have any comments on the bathrooms.  Except that I have no comment. 

Ain't she pretty?  A smiling wife is never a bad thing.

So.  There it is.  I've been to Gene and Georgetti.  I recommend you do the same.  It's an old time place with an old time feel, where you get a tremendous meal.  I loved it, and can't wait to go back.  Someday.  After we recover from this year. 

Thank you sincerely for your continued interest in this silly project.  I apologize that I didn't get to this sooner.  It's done, though, and there's something to be said for finally following through on this.

Thank you. 

yours in meat,

Randy

NEXT MONTH:  We wrap the year up.  I'll probably get sentimental.  Don't miss that.

This is in the carriage after dinner.  Thanks for being part of this project.





I just booked my flight....



Rangers Ballpark in Arlington.  I think I'm gonna like it here.



....and now I'm anxious for the season to get going. 

Baseball Pilgrimage 2012 Part 1:  Arlington and Houston is on. 

After next year, I'll be up to 14 of the currently standing stadiums, with 4 more that I've been to that don't exist any longer.   Getting there. 

It will also mark my first foray into an West Division team in either league. 

Minute Maid Park in Houston.  Think we're gonna sit in the Crawford Boxes.

Sunday morning....

...I was up way too late/early.  We finished the steakhouse tour on Saturday night, and afterward I put a pork shoulder in the smoker.  I slept for about 4 hours in 2 hour spurts, awakening in front of the still on television several times. 

The movie channels were on, which meant I got wrapped up in movies.  Which prevented me from sleeping.

Some observations:

"Breaking Away" is one of my favorite films of all time.  Has been since I was in high school.  It got better watching it the other night.  Know why?  I'm a father now.  No wonder my dad liked that one so much as well. 

The Spielberg sweeping close up at the end of "Field of Dreams" when Ray Kinsella realizes the guy in the catcher's equipment in his dad has a moment that would not exist today.  There is a beautiful cloudy blue sky behind Costner, and the shot is established as Ray and his family.  It then jump zooms into Costner's face, with him on screen left.  It's a gorgeous shot.  And Amy Madigan's hair blows into it at one moment.  It would be digitally removed today, methinks.  Know why I know that?  The next shot is the same perspective...but guarantee Madigan was off set.  As a bad photographer who is constantly annoyed by things that creep into a frame...guarantee the cinematogropher wishes he had that one back. 

The "Star Trek" reboot is much better on second viewing.  And James Kirk gets his ass kicked CONSTANTLY in that film.  And always fights with his mouth open.  The light in the camera thing is WAY too annoying in that one to ever recommend it, though. 

So those are my observations.  This blog is going back to more random shots more frequently posted now that I have gotten through the steakhouse thing.  At least, after I write the last review.  Gene and Georgetti.  Good food.  Am I giving it away? 

Wildfire - Miss Chicago Steakhouse for November



You know, if I had just moved about 40 feet to my right, that tree wouldn't be
in the way of the name.  I'm such a bad photographer sometimes.

TRUE CONFESSION BEFORE WE BEGIN.  I started this three weeks ago.  I haven't had the gumption to finish it.  Today is December 6, and we dined on November 5.  I apologize in advance for the delay.  I just couldn't focus on this.

Here we are at the penultimate steakhouse on our tour through the great steakhouses of the Windy City. This whole project has been such fun, so educational, so much WORK and so much....money.  Well.  No one wants to hear me whine.  Mostly, it's just been a pleasure. 

Previous months reviews have been as follows:  Joe's, Keefer's, Gibsons, Morton's, David Burke's Primehouse, Rosebud, N9NE, Fogo de Chao, Benny's Chop House, Chicago Cut, and Chicago Chop House. 

Those of you who have stuck with me through this journey - thank you.  And you know that if you click the links, you'll get some humor.  Or my version of it.  Also - for the cheap hits...this is a safe for work photograph of someone I'm told is an adult film star.  How about that?  Lots of photos this time.  Lots of food, so lots of photos.

November in Chicago is a funny thing.  It can be 60 degrees and balmy one day, then cold as hell and soaking, nasty rain the next.  One of the things that is nice about November is that it starts to be fire time.  How appropriate then that our choice for steakhouse was Wildfire.  Get it?  No.  That's not really the reason.  It just happened to be where it was scheduled.  No deeper meaning.

20+ years of marriage and still sneaking a smooch.  Matt and Jill.

Anywho, this month we had the pleasure of dining with my old workmate Matt and his lovely wife, Jill.  Or, in their alternate handles, Matt in the Middle and Cha Cha of the blogosphere, OR The Agitator and Cha Cha of the Dirty Laundry Podcast.  Like those links?  Go get them.  Matt's been my companion at 7 of the 14 baseball stadiums I've visited thus far in this lifetime; and he and I are headed to Texas to take in Rangers and Astros games in 2012.  Before the Astros move to the American League.  Stupid fucking decision.  I'm sorry.  Steakhouses.  That's what we're talking about.  Check this blog after the steakhouse thing is over for more tales of Matt and me as I continue to review the stadia of the Major Leagues.

I must confess I haven't had time to sit and write this since we ate almost two weeks ago, so I don't recall the weather that night. I think it was brisk-ish.  Matt and Jill picked us up and we headed to the city for a little fine dining.  Located on Erie Ave., right behind Ed Debevic's, Wildfire is part of a chain of steakhouses, with 4 other Chicagoland locations, and 3 out of state.  Arriving at the restaurant basically right at our reservation time of 6 p.m., I was a little taken aback when we were handed a buzzer, like you'd find at an Olive Garden or Red Lobster.  It should be noted that Wildfire is a Lettuce Entertain You restaurant, and that it is - most assuredly - what you'd expect of a Melman enterprise.  Getting back to the restaurant, walking in the door, the name "Wildfire" was appropriate.  The place had a slight wood smoke smell to it, probably because of the wood fire burning in the exposed kitchen.  As a new convert to the world of smoking meat, that hickory smell is like a Spanish Fly for my tastebuds.  I'm liking this so far.  Except for the buzzer thing.  I'll finish explaining that throughout this review.

I don't think anyone famous is in any of those pictures...

Fortunately, we only waited about 10 minutes, which gave us an opportunity to look around a bit.  Decorated in wood trim, large photographs of non-famous people and subdued, yet not dark, light, Wildfire is like walking into an upscale chain steakhouse.  It was not quite as elegant as a lot of the places we've been this year, but not as simple as an Outback Steakhouse.  There is a theme that's being established here people.

We were buzzed, (boy, that word has changed meaning for me since I was 20...) then led to our booth in a corner overlooking the rest of the restaurant.  Wildfire is one of the larger places we've attended.  Alive with conversation, the atmosphere is vibrant, bordering on loud.  It wasn't hard to hear conversation at the table, but I could see it being a little much for people who prefer quieter dining.  We were given our menus, then we met our server for the evening, Phillip.  Or Philip.  I didn't ask for spelling.  Sorry Phillip (or Philip) if you're reading this and I've misspelled it.  Phillip was a pleasant, cheerful guy who took his time to explain to us the specials of the evening, take our drink orders, and take a little of the humor that Matt and I can't help but throw people's way when we are given the opportunity.  A couple of small loaves of bread were placed on the table.  One was an Onion Bread, not unlike that found at Morton's.  The other was a Raisin Pumpernickel.  I tried the onion, which was good, and

Bread.

the pumpernickel got good reviews from everyone who tried it.  Much conversation was taking place at the table about kids, work, baseball, etc., etc. 

Matt and I have known each other for 10 years.  We worked together for 8 of those, so we've spent a lot of time together.  I've met Jill a few times, but Amy and Jill had never met.  It was great fun to sit and converse and enjoy each other's company so much.  It reminded me why I'm friends with Matt, why I married my wife, and why I like people like Matt and Jill.  I just dig being around grounded, REAL people. 

That's a great big potato.  Yummy.

A short while later, Phillip came to take our orders for entrees.  I chose...wait for it....the Bone In Ribeye, cooked Medium Rare.  You've heard that before, right?  Jill chose the Petite New York Strip, Well Done.  Matt chose one of the specials for the night, the Filet Medallions encrusted with 3 different flavors.  They were Parmesan, Horseradish and Blue Cheese, and Matt got the steaks Medium Well.  Amy ordered from the Prix Fixe menu.  Her main course was a Petite Filet, cooked Medium Rare, and she was thrown a bunch of other items as well.  I believe she got a soup (Shrimp and Crab Bisque), a choice of potato (Redskin Mashed), and a dessert (Pumpkin Pie - it's November, right? (well it WAS when I wrote that)).  I ordered a Giant Baked Potato and some Broccoli (portioned large enough to share with the table) to accompany my dinner.  Matt got the Baked Potato as well.  I have to confess, I can't remember what Jill got as a side, if any.  One of the advantages to taking so long writing this is that Amy informed me that Matt and Jill split the potato.  See.  If I'd gotten all hot headed and just plowed through this, you wouldn't know that.
 

Amy's Petite Filet.  For Her Petiteness.  Her Petiteness.  Hee hee.  I believe
she just got a new nickname.

Once our orders were placed, we went back to conversating.  I love made up words that sound right.  Something about them just embiggens me.  I'm drifting.  I should inform you that Wildfire does not feature USDA Prime steaks.  It is one of two places on this journey (Fogo being the other) that has that distinction.  Given the atmosphere, the noise, etc., I'm not sure "Prime" would have fit.  There's that theme again.... 

Amy was the first one to be served any food, since she had the soup with her meal.  Her bisque was seafoody.  I can't really comment.  I tried it, and was not offended by it, so it must have been pretty good.  Getting better with shellfish.....  I digress.  Again.  So, while Matt, Jill and I were left with a big handful of nothing....Amy was eating away on her soup.  Boy howdy.  When Amy was probably 7/8ths through (how do they time it so well?), the entrees arrived.

Matt's steak trio.  Huey, Dewey & Louie.

We were seated at a fairly large booth, with a decent sized table.  With the bread, the steaks, the potatoes and Amy's soup....suddenly the table was crowded.  My kinda meal.  Don't get me wrong....I'm still not gonna share very much with you, but I do like having mass quantities around to sample and share.  Just not gonna share that much of mine, thank you very much.


That bit of silliness aside, all the steaks looked fantastic.  Matt's three filet medallions were crusted over with the three toppings, looking absolutely cooked to perfection.  I used to eat a lot of steak toward the well done zone, so Jill's steak looked spot on as well.  Amy's steak was cute as a button.  Like her.  I digress.  It was a petite filet, so no, Wayne, it wasn't just a clever name, and it looked great.  My steak was (SURPRISE!) the biggest of the bunch.  Looking like it had been cooked just the way I like it, the bone in ribeye was crusted just right, and very soft when tested for firmness.  Felt medium rare, looked medium rare...I think they got it right.  I couldn't wait to dig in and confirm my suspicions.  

Jill's strip steak. I'm not a  well done guy anymore,
but it sure looks tasty, doesn't it?



Matt's first.  Matt was good enough to actually think about blogging enough after our meal to rate his steaks.  You can read about it in this blog post, but if you don't want to be carried by link to another corner of the interwebs...well...let me sum up his feelings.  His steaks were 3 oz. filets apiece, and his preference was (in order) blue cheese, horseradish then paremesan.  Apparently there were three other toppings to choose from, but I don't roll that way.  Matt really enjoyed his dinner.  Jill was a little less vocal about her steak, (it's hard to get a word in when Matt and I get rolling) but she looked to be enjoying her steak as well.  Amy was back again with another filet.  After last month's Kobe ribeye disappointment, she had decided to go back to her tried and true filet.  Cooked to a perfect medium rare, it was soft, almost melt in your mouth good.  This month I've been researching barbecue competitions for my passion with smoking meat at home.  There is some sauce called Slap Yo Mama BBQ sauce.  I'd say Amy's steak was bordering on slap yo mama good.  She had picked a good entree this month.  Lesson learned.

 My steak.  That's why you're here, right?  Wait, scratch that - substitute
the word "I'm" for "you're."

Now my steak.  Because it's the only one I can really comment on with any authority.  It is advertised as "Crusted Bone in Ribeye."  I was unsure of that when I saw it on the menu, but Phillip assured me that it was just cooking that crusted it, and not some foreign object.  Good choice.  My steak was delicious.  Perfectly cooked at medium rare, the crust on the outside gave a nice smoky bite to every morsel.  Flavor abounded, some from the cut of meat, but some from the fact that it had been cooked on a wood fired grill.  Nice touch.  Again, steaks at Wildfire are NOT USDA Prime.  They are wet-aged for between 21 and 28 days.  Unless you've been going to steakhouses once a month for a year, I'd say you'd have a real tough time telling the difference between Wildfire's ribeye and Prime.  I have been going to steakhouses once a month for a year.  I could tell.  But BARELY.  Have I raved about it enough?  I guess so.  Great steak at Wildfire.  As I dug into the steak a little more, it became obvious that I was going to need to eat my potato quickly again, so that I could focus on my meat.  The potato was very good.  Baked to a nice tenderness, it was a good compliment to the meal.  It should be noted that Amy really liked her redskin mashed potatoes.  In fact...I think they are her favorite starchy side dish this year...how about that?  The broccoli...was broccoli.  It was cooked right.  What else can be said about it?  

Much more conversation about things you don't really care about followed during the entree portion of our meal.  It was great to be out with another couple.  Have I mentioned that? 

Finally, when we were finished with our meal, it was time for desserts.  Matt and Jill said "no" originally, but I think peer pressure got to them, and they ordered the Baked Apple Skillet Pie a la mode. Amy had her Pumpkin Pie order in already, and I went with the Key Lime Pie.  I generally try to avoid key lime pie everywhere else because I've had the GREATEST KEY LIME PIE EVER at Joe's, and I'm a snob. Once I've had the best, why go back?  I took off my snob hat for a second.  I went with the pie.  I also got my customary cup of decaf to go with it.  Nothing says "I'm finished with this fine meal" like a cup of coffee to me. 

Foreground:  my Key Lime Pie.  Out of focus.  Background:  Matt
and Jill's Apple Pie.  Out of focus as well.

I'll start with Amy's dessert first.  She made another really good choice.  The pumpkin pie was a little spicy, creamy and delicious.  If I could have stolen the recipe, I would have.  My key lime pie was also very good.  No Joe's, but it was pretty damned close.  Served as a small, almost tart-y looking thing, it was creamy and the lime didn't overwhelm.  It announced its presence, but didn't hit you in the mouth.  Very well done, Wildfire.  Matt and Jill ate their dessert very quickly, and enjoyed it tremendously.  It was really half a skillet, but don't tell anyone. 

Finally the meal was over and it was time to pay the check, then head back to the suburbs.  Throughout the beginning of the review I talked about a theme.  I'll sum it up this way.  Wildfire is a classy but not "high class" place.  It is comfortable.  The buzzer bugged the shit out of me.  In reviewing their website and menu, I happened upon an option that they offer for big groups.  You get to choose from a variety of items on their menu for $32.95 a person.  I think that's great.  I would say Wildfire is the kind of place you could make a regular stop.  The food is very, very good, but it doesn't cost you any appendages.  You can also go with a group, and no one should do the "I'll have a burger" thing because they can't believe how much the fucking steaks cost.  I think it will be the place where we break our sons into finer dining.  Nice joint.  Try it. 

Nuts and bolts:

Amy and I picked up the check.  Matt and Jill insisted on paying for their liquor.  So.  Ready?  The meal was $250 bucks for the four of us, with liquor and tip.  $250.  That is 66% of what Amy and I spent BY OURSELVES with NO LIQUOR last month at Chicago Chop House.  The upper end flairs and touches were missing at Wildfire...but damn me if I wasn't more than happy with our meal.  I'd say it is our best bang for the buck so far this year for a place where you order off a menu. 

Bathroom stalls are floor to ceiling.  Don't know why I feel compelled to comment on that.

Buzzer thing is a major bad thing.  Didn't like that. 

Ambiance is very nice.  Well designed. 

Bring a group of people with you.  I think that's what the place is meant to host.  I don't think I'd like it as a "couple" destination as much.

So.  There you go.  I've finished this.  Only took me a month.  This is the second to last of these I'm doing.  I hope you enjoyed it.  Get to Wildfire.  You'll like it a whole bunch.

NEXT MONTH:  Gene and Georgetti.  We're ending this with the granddaddy of all Chicago steakhouses. 

The smile is a "Holy crap!  I ate that much good food and got to
keep my arm and leg!  Outstanding!"