On Saturday we went to Ruth’s Chris, as an early birthday dinner for Ted. Normally we’d prefer to try some of Portland’s unique restaurants but there are actually only a few specializing in steak and more importantly, I had a gift card. My company always used to send out an AmEx gift card to every employee at the holidays; I always thought that was a little strange, since this is also when profit-sharing bonuses happen, but OK, not complaining! Anyway, this year we have a new recognition and rewards program where you can earn points and pick your prizes, so they used that instead. In addition to everything from jewelry to blenders, they had several gift cards available, so I chose the Ruth’s Chris one.
We’ve been to their restaurants in Houston, Scottsdale and Taipei, and it’s always been a true fine-dining experience. This one, however, only partly succeeded in that regard. The steaks were as good as ever, and the service was quite good, except for a minor bobble where the server gave me the wine to taste (I’d done the ordering) and then handed me the cork afterward. Not a big deal and certainly not something that would affect the tip I left, but it does show a lack of clearness on the whole concept. The idea is to sniff the cork first, just in case the wine has gone so bad that even one sip would be unpleasant. (That happens so vanishingly rarely these days, or maybe ever, that it doesn’t really matter much, but that is the idea.)
Anyway, the problem was the restaurant itself. You walk right in to a large, very high foyer facing a stairway to the second floor. (Here’s someone’s photo) It’s a single door, not a double “airlock” style of door. The bar is on your right and the restaurant seating on your left; the upstairs seems to be devoted to rooms for private parties. It’s all very open. Of course, the upstairs and the bar were both very busy, since it was the Saturday before Christmas Eve. This was also an usually cold weekend in Portland (when I drove to work to work this morning, there was still a little snow on the road). We were seated at a table right on the edge between the dining area and the lobby. So it was noisy, open, and very cold – not the atmosphere I’m expecting when I’m paying those kind of prices for a special-occasion dinner.
The server did apologize for the cold, and they comped our dessert – I think they felt guilty after noticing that Ted kept his winter coat on the whole time. But the nicest part happened when we went to pay. When I’d ordered the gift cards, I had a choice of “spending” $50 or $100 of my points; I chose the $100 option, so when two cards arrived in the mail I just assumed they were two $50 cards. Nope – apparently someone somewhere made an error and sent me two $100 cards, so our dinner was free – even after I made sure to tip based on the original cost including dessert, since the server really was trying her best.
And then on the way home, Uber quoted us a higher-than-usual price, as we expected due to Saturday night high demand, but only actually charged me the normal price.
I almost feel a little guilty, since I was supposed to be treating Ted – but not quite. I may end up feeling guilty about his birthday present, though. A while back, I posted a photo of our lake to Facebook, and an old friend asked if I’d mind if she based a painting on it. Of course I said that was fine, and asked her to send me a photo of the completed painting. That was a few weeks ago, when I was still deliberating about a present for Ted – it’s a milestone birthday, so I needed something special. So I asked if I could buy it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to ship it for a couple of weeks – apparently it takes a while for all the layers of paint to dry. It’s in the mail now, but while I told her I was hoping to get it for his birthday, I forgot to tell her in time that we’d be heading down to the lake a couple days ahead of time. (I was going to email her the very day a note arriving saying she’d shipped it – my fault entirely.) So it may not arrive until after we’re gone. At least it won’t have to stand out in the weather; when I grumbled about this on Ravelry, someone smart suggested asking the Post Office to hold our mail while we were gone, and that turned out to be surprisingly easy to do. (Really, the usps.com site lets you do a lot of useful things very easily.) So I’ll be wrapping up a printout of the painting with an IOU; I’m trying to figure out a way to make it more special (like maybe faking up a frame, or wrapping it in a box if we have one the right size).
Three workdays left before break!
Mirrored from Dichroic Reflections.