One of those Special Occasion Dinners

Though people are unlikely to admit up front to the question of if we’ve had an embarrassing circumstance on a date, at one point in our lives our eyebrows widened at something outrageous, heads hidden and turned away like an ostrich in the sand from embarrassment, and laughed as we shook our heads at the way our nights have turned out. In that company, I have been – to my detriment up front and pleasure relaying here, it was the hilarity of the situation. 

Last Saturday night Ally and I went out to Pete Miller’s in Evanston for a top notch steak dinner to commemorate our second year together. In brazen honesty, we could never quite remember if we started dating on July 6^th or 7^th so while the hell not make it an excuse for a two day event? Her LivingSocial deal - $25 for $50 – was a true pleasure for their menu online boasts top of the line meats and prices to boot. Days leading up to Pete Miller’s had me licking my chops at what I could order with a good scotch, and if this was the 60’s, I could do my best Don Draper and smoke a few cigarettes right at the table, looking too cool for school. The night didn’t go that way, at least without a scare at first. 

I do not possess the Jack-of-all-Trades skills my father does with plumbing, carpentry, woodworking and especially electrical. Diagnosing your problem is an ability I have, fixing things is where I usually draw the line. On last Saturday, before we left for dinner, I saw no harm in crossing that line. My head and upper body emerged into the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink, I proceeded to make adjustments to the handy water filter that our condo owner had installed years ago. Emerging from the belly of the plumbing, my white v-neck stained from plumbers putty and grease, I proceeded to bang the side of my head on the sharp wooden trim, my right ear just above the lobe taking the brunt of the impact. “Son of a…” I shouted, uttering a few choice words that made Ally drop her dinner prep and come in from the bedroom. Though my ear hurt, why would I be logical and clean it out? Twenty minutes later, after a good shower, I’m fixing my hair in the bathroom mirror. My right ear, feels warm, and not from water. I turn to see blood pouring out from my ear, a few steps away from doing a real Van Gogh on the appendage. Gauze, ice and anything short of glue was used to seal the dripping bastard. My persona, more likely to beat up on myself than to blame others, attacked my ego, blaming myself for possibly ruining a commemorative dinner. The whole ride from our condo in Arlington Heights into Evanston on Route 14 was a series of me checking what became a horrible clot that that formed on my ear. Two conclusions were likely made by the drivers in opposite lanes – “what raccoon did he lose to” and “who took a 9 to that guys head?” The more I joked about how it looked like free Danish at a hotel breakfast, the more Ally shook her head and laughed to the point of good tears in her eyes.  

Pete Miller’s in Evanston (a location also in Wheeling) has a yesteryear feeling to a mid-twentieth century steakhouse that Wildfire manages to miss in several areas even though that is a likeable establishment. The dim lighting, deep browns of maple and oak wood in the floor and bar, and the photos of antiquity of Evanston, all the way back to the early 20^th Century, tie the place together with an aura of a unique voice that remains an establishment on 1557 Sherman Avenue. We were ushered to our table, me hiding my ear with a hand that I try to make seem that I am scratching my hair above the rated R bloodbath. Taking an in-depth peak at the menu (you would too if you spent big bucks there) Ally and I were impressed at every feature of the meal from appetizer to choice of steaks to drinks. The waiter tempts our wallets further when he gives us his spiel of the ten top notch  examples of steaks on a silver coated platter, which was probably polished aluminum but let’s say for our special night it was Versailles silver. Of the choices I struggled over for ten minutes, and was willing to shell out money for (careful, they can be expensive) was the 12oz Bison NY Strip Steak, 14 or 18oz Prime Rib, 14oz bone in Strauss Veal Chop, and a Colorado Domestic Lamb. After Ally ordered a delicious if not massive bowl of French Onion Soup and I the best bowl of Lobster Bisque since meat mecca Texas De Brazil, I ordered the Strauss Veal Chop. 

As you can see in pictures below, they are not shy when it comes to quantity. The veal, cooked to medium, had that soft and melt in your mouth texture that is typical only to filet minon. My side order of a three cheese potato cake (better resembling bread pudding) had a cherry on top that was peppered bacon! To my delight, I finished what Ally could not of a delicious prime rib. The second half of the meal was washed down with an excellent yet overpriced Old Fashioned, which bites at first from the bourbon, only to later give the drinker a kiss of sweetness from the ground fruit and sugar. When the waiter came by to up the bill with dessert, we waved him off, feeling our stomachs had turned into a rotund one-pack. I held her hand, wished her a happy anniversary, made her laugh as I hid my ear and listened to slow jazz trio performing at the front room to a packed house. 

Despite the mangled ear and my fretting, the night was capped off by martinis at one of our favorite Evanston watering holes, the Century Movie theater bar - that’s right, you heard me. The classic movie décor, piano player on Friday nights and kick-ass good martinis made my favorite theater a great place to reminisce our two years together as we worked off a good buzz. With the chuckles of the memory of our night in our minds that floated in libations, I knew then as well as now that next time I’m back in Evanston for dinner, I’d like to try Pete Miller’s more affordable bar menu and put that great establishment to a further test.