Dinner at Morton’s, in which Ysha is a backward goob
Son, I tell you whut. Being in Chicago turns me into a wide eyed little girl. I walk around gawking at everything in the world and loving this city.
It’s been a very long week, and what I really wanted for dinner was a nice glass of pinot noir and a big juicy steak. When I came back from my neighborhood exploration earlier, I inquired of the concierge(Ryan) where to get the best steak closeby – he sent me to Morton’s, even made a reservation for me. I could do with a concierge in my life all the time, someone to recommend restaurants and take care of the details.
I popped around the corner and into the restaurant at the appointed time and was immediately seated. But the man seating me didn’t provide me with either a menu or a wine list. What the hey? So, I just figured the server would bring it over in a few minutes, but I was still a bit confused.
The lovely Miss Jenn brought me the wine list and asked my preference for the “water service”. *snicker* Source Municipal (as Waiter would say) is just fine for me thanks. Jenn told me that her co-server Angela would be over in just a moment for the “menu presentation”.
The what?
My wine comes and a nice busser drops me a fresh baked loaf of onion bread. Still, no menu. Angela passes by and tells me that she will return momentarily for the “menu presentation”.
At this point, I am expecting a musical number to accompany this presentation. Is a huge dancing bear going to come out of the kitchen and hand me my menu? Are streamers going to float from the ceiling as it touches my dainty hand? This is some serious buildup for a menu, no doubt.
I didn’t have to wonder for much longer. Angela comes over wheeling a cart of food. I say to her, “honey, that’s not a menu! That’s the whole kitchen!”
She laughed and began her presentation. On this cart were several trays of food covered in cling film. She listed off each menu item (they weren’t ALL on the cart) and displayed the various cuts of beef for me. All of the steaks she showed me were huge and promised to be delivered in that size. Then she starts talking about the seafood selections and brandishes a plastic lobster at me.
WAIT ONE DAMNED MINUTE HERE!! THAT’S NOT A PLASTIC LOBSTER!!
Yes, babies and darlings, it was a live lobster. She picked him up and he wiggled at me. I expressed my mild disdain (with a “oh my god! That’s a live lobster!”) and then she finished the presentation. Luckily for those of us with a rather short attention span, she then left me with a hard copy of the menu so that I could consider my choices.
I had already eyeballed them online and knew that I wanted to try their “legendary” chocolate lava cake, so I didn’t go wild on dinner. I ordered the single cut filet (smaller portion) and the garlic green beans. Dinner was scrumptious.
Dessert was damn near perfect, BUT for their signature dessert I expected more. Oh, it was large enough and it was fresh from the oven (I’d had to order it before my meal came since it takes 30 minutes to make). It was nicely oozy in the middle and served with a very good quality vanilla ice cream. But, I dunno, the chocolatey flavor was a wee bit ….. flat. Like maybe it could have used a teeny smidge of salt in the batter.
WHAT? I never denied being a food snob.
Anyway, dinner was terrific and I managed to only act like I just fell off the turnip truck a few times. We won’t talk about the price though – just know that I stopped at the 7-11 across the street and bought a BOTTLE of pinot noir for the same amount I paid for a GLASS at the restaurant.