restaurant review

This past weekend was Family Weekend at the University of Wyoming, so Heather's friend, Amy, Ted, and I went up to do all things Family Weekend related.  Come to find out there really weren't any events that 1) we were interested in or 2) didn't involve handing over wads of cash.  I figure they're getting enough of our money as it is; I'm not going to pay extra for the joy of climbing rocks or learning how to read a map.  Huh?  Yeah.  Those were some of the choices.

In any event, we got to spend time with Heather and the weather was gorgeous and the town was deserted because everything pretty much closes for football games.  Who knew?  Obviously, not me.

We did go out to eat on Saturday night, and I must say it was the biggest cluster *$%# I think I have ever experienced in a restaurant setting.  The first indication of trouble was the whole reservations process.  Knowing it was Family Weekend and also knowing the restaurant selection in Laramie, I thought it smart to make a reservation.  I found this place called The Cavalryman Supper Club that had some mixed reviews, but for the most part they were positive.  The few negative reviews seemed to be from "city folk" who really didn't understand the whole small town, down home concept.  I wasn't expecting fine dining Denver style so much as something a step above Chilis.  I digress.

Last Wednesday I made a reservation through the restaurant website and got a message letting me know the reservation wouldn't be confirmed until I got a phone call or e-mail.  I waited patiently for either.  Nada.  Zip.  Zilch.  Friday evening while waiting an hour for our 30 minute wait for a table at Chilis I rang the Cavalryman Supper Club to check on our reservation.  Much to my surprise we did indeed have a reservation but no explanation on why it wasn't confirmed.

Saturday we show up at the restaurant about 10 or 15 minutes before our now confirmed reservation time.  Little did I know this was really going to throw the operations of the entire restaurant off for the entire evening.  Now, having worked in the restaurant business, I know there are a few options for when a party arrives prior to their confirmed reservation time.  We could easily have been seated at the next available table or we could have been asked to wait until our reservation time to avoid over seating a station.  Either of those would have been perfectly acceptable.  Instead the two hostesses had an intense discussion on what to do in this situation.  I'm guessing we are the first guests in the history of the restaurant to actually show up early.  It took several minutes of looking at the empty tables and the empty sheet of paper and conversing in a whisper for them to decide that it would be OK to seat us.

We are shown to our table and I get my first good look at the place.  Now again, I wasn't expecting the Flagstaff House or Tavern On The Green, but the place appeared to have been decorated by someone who had a preconceived notion of how a "fine" restaurant should be decorated, yet while trying to maintain the "cowboy" feel.  Crystal chandeliers combined with recycled fence post frames around photos of cowboys in various poses on their horses.   The line of potted plants that separated the dining room from the hostess station was draped in black table cloths.  I suppose that was more attractive than the pots, but not by much.  I'm still not sure about the tomato plant seedlings in a trough as you come in the front door.  Future fruits for their salads maybe?

So, we are seated and I've taken in the ambiance.  Southfork meets The Ponderosa.

We wait.

And wait.

And wait.

There is one server shuttling among the other tables in our area, but he refuses to make eye contact with anyone at our table.  Maybe he's thinking we're aliens with laser shooting eyes and were going to incinerate him if he looked our way.  After waiting 10 minutes I finally say, "Excuse me?"  The horror of it all.  He actually had to acknowledge us!  I asked if he would mind finding us a server and he apologized and said he'd get one ASAP.  A girl comes rushing up to our table and starts to apologize profusely for ignoring us, but "nobody told" her that we were her table.  Nobody told you?  You don't know what station you're working?

Whatever, we finally have a person to bring us food and drink.

Or so we thought.

She takes our drink order and leaves and we wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I notice the bartender on his hands and knees in front of the wine rack and I say, "I bet she comes back and tells me they're out of the wine I ordered."

Yep.  They ran out last night.  She tells me the bartender had offered up another suggestion, of which I'm not particularly fond of, so I choose another.

So, now we have our drinks and we proceed to order some starters.  I can't wait for the baked brie and roasted garlic!  Heather, Ted, and Amy ordered spinach, artichoke, and king crab dip and are anxiously waiting for that to appear.

We wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Seeing a pattern here?

Finally, our food comes and we dig in.  I'm thinking I had better order another glass of wine because by the time I actually get it, I'll be ready.  Alas, our server has disappeared.  Again.

After our appetizers have been pretty much devoured, Becca (that's her name - you have been warned should you choose to dine at this place) returns to take our dinner order.  Heather and Amy order bacon wrapped filets and Ted and I order bison ribeyes.

In the meantime other people have come in and other tables are being served.  I'm hearing lots of "I'm sorry they ..." or "I'm sorry you had to wait" or "I'm sorry this isn't what you ordered but thought you might want it rather than wait."  What?!?!

By this point, we are all pretty much over this place and just want to eat and leave.  If only our food would show up.

We wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Becca comes out with a tray of food and we all eagerly lean forward, poised and ready.  Except it's not our food.  In fact, Becca has no clue whose food this is.  She's standing there lost.  She gets it sorted out in her brain and takes it to wherever it's supposed to go - or maybe not; we'll never know.  As she walks by she apologizes again and says they are starting to work on our order.  Starting?!  Are you kidding me??

By this point, I'm getting quite agitated about the whole situation.  A manager type person seems to have finally arrived on scene and comes over to apologize, and because it has some bearing that none of us are savvy enough to comprehend, tells us his name is Tim and he came from Colorado and is late.  He then says for all our trouble he is going to comp two of the meals.  Yay.  I'm so very happy.  I'm overjoyed.  Thrilled.

Completely and utterly unimpressed.

You mean we're actually going to get to eat?  What a concept.  In a restaurant, no less.

He asks me if I would like another glass of wine, and I'm tempted to tell him to just bring me the whole damn bottle.  Off he goes to get my wine.

Becca *finally* comes out with our dinners and asks us to cut into your steaks to make sure they are done correctly.  They all appear to be done perfectly.  Dinners come with seasonal vegetable, which on this past Saturday was four - yes, FOUR - small stalks of asparagus and choice of "starch."  (Who wrote their menu?  Choice of "starch"??)  I opted for the roasted red potatoes with garlic (I overheard another server describe them as "poached."  Huh?)  The number for the night apparently was four.  I got four quarter sized red potatoes to go along with the four spears of asparagus.  OK, I realize I'm not paying for the side dishes; I'm paying for the meat, but seriously folks.  Other tables were getting baskets of bread but apparently we had been seated at the "no service, no wine, no bread table."  After delivering our dinners, Becca disappears again.  I'm thinking I really want that other glass of wine, but manager man has disappeared.

Let me take a moment here to describe "manager man."  Tall, stocky, greasy ringlet mullet.  Smarmy is the word that came to mind when I first saw him.  Kinda scary actually.  GREASY RINGLET MULLET! 

Finally greasy haired manager (GHM) shows up with a glass of wine.  He tells me that due to the delay in our dinner, he is going to not only comp two meals but I will get to taste three of their "best" wines.  GHM explains what this particular vintage is all about and how it has spicy undertones, and I'm thinking, "No dude, that's all the hair grease running down your face."  GHM will personally make sure I get the wine in a timely fashion and will bring the second freebie when my glass gets "down to here."  Imagine 3/4 down a wine glass.  Yeah.  Right.  Sure I will.

We are eating and I look over at Ted's steak and I look at mine.  Look at Ted's.  Look at mine.  Guess who didn't get the bison ribeye?  Got a ribeye, but it ain't bison.  Is there nothing this restaurant can do correctly?!  Rather than risk starvation, I choose to just eat what's been put in front of me and deal with the price issue when the check arrives.  We finish and decide it's just too much bother to even try for dessert.  We just want to leave.

My wine glass has long been empty, and GHM hasn't "personally" noticed. In fact he's leaning against the bar chatting up the hostesses.

So we wait for Becca to come back.

And we wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Finally, I've had it.  I get up and Ted asks me where I'm going, and I tell him I'm going to get our check.  I walk up to GHM and say, "Excuse me, but would it be possible to get our check now?  We're kinda tired of being here."

*blink*  *blink*

More apologies that by now I know are hollow and have no meaning whatsoever.

Back at the table we wait for the check to appear.

And wait.

And wait.

GHM slinks up to our table and apologizes AGAIN, and tells us our entire dinner is comped.  They can't find our check.  GHM keeps going on and on about how it's an off night and how they were busier than they expected it being family weekend and all.  Frankly, I have no sympathy, and tell him, "I've worked management in the restaurant industry.  I've worked management in the retail industry.  As a manager it's your responsibility to plan for busy times and to make sure you have enough staff and food and drink.  Family weekend happens every year, just like Christmas.  The crowds weren't unexpected, YOU were unprepared."  And we leave.

We know at some point this is going to be funny, but it wasn't yet.

Driving down the highway back into town, a car comes speeding up behind us, and Ted being quick on the thinking says, "Oh shit!  It's Greasy Haired Manager and he found our check!"

At least we got a laugh out of that.

odd ball thoughts

It's Friday!!  I get to see Heather this weekend.  *boing*  *boing* This weekend is Family weekend at University of Wyoming.  I paid $45 for three of us to partake in all the festivities but we probably won't.  Ah well, it's still going to be fun!

So, to get you through the weekend I'm going to just leave you with a few random thoughts from my somewhat off-center brain.

So, you see signs all over for "World's best ..." How do they know it's the "world's best?"  Driving through small town America, you invariably come across some little cafe in Podunk Nowhere that is touting, "World's Best Coffee!"  Do they have a full time employee traveling around the globe tasting ALL the coffee in the world?

New and improved is another one.  How can it be new AND improved?  If it's "new" then it's never been done before, right?  How do you improve on something that's never been done before?

1st Annual.  Huh?  If it's the first it hasn't ever happened.  Annual implies it's been done on a yearly basis.  What if something happens and they can't hold the event the following year?

World Famous!  Again seen on small town cafes.  Because someone from Canada ate there makes it "World Famous?"

Very unique.  This one drives me bonkers.
Definition of unique: existing as the only one or as the sole example; single; solitary in type or characteristics: a unique copy of an ancient manuscript.
Now I realize languages change and morph and whatnot, but how can a single thing be "very" unique?  If there's only one, there's only one.

Just for grins and to continue the randomness of this whole exercise are some funny signs seen around the world.  My guess is they are the "world's best" funniest signs, possibly even "new and improved" over a previous version, not to mention due to my posting some of them will now be "world famous," and all of them are "very unique" in their own right.

do you pay prior to touching the wires?

 

the church is so helpful, no?

 

crocs waiting for their nom noms

 

which is it, dead or slow?

 

think s/he still works there?

 

yeah.  right. about that.

 

make up your mind, will ya?

 

sale for those not looking for a bargain

 

Have a great weekend!

food on the brain

Over the Christmas holidays, Heather and I are going on a cruise to the eastern Caribbean.  In an effort not to scare small children while in a bathing suit (me in the bathing suit, not small children,) I'm making a very serious effort to lose some poundage.  So far I'm doing really well.  Eight pounds gone and only fifteen more to go.

Honestly, I'm not sure I'll make it.  I love food.  I mean I LOVE food.  All kinds.  Well, mostly all kinds.  Liver and lima beans will never cross the threshold in to my home.

Moderate sized sandwich, don't you think?

 

It's natural when you are watching what you eat to want all the things you shouldn't have.  You notice I didn't say, "can't" have?  I'm not going to tell myself I can't have anything.  Otherwise I'll torture myself.  If there's something I really want, I could allow myself some in moderation.

Chocolate isn't my thing.  In fact sweets generally aren't my thing.  Unless it's pie.  I love me some pie!

Salty foods are what I'm craving the most.  I have a full tube of Pringles in my desk drawer at work.  It's left over from our trip to Yellowstone earlier this month.  It's still not opened.  As long as it stays sealed I won't be tempted.  But once that puppy's open, all bets are off.  I know.  I know.   Moderation.  I don't have to eat the whole thing.

Can't eat just 16

 

Seriously, how many of you reading this can eat just one serving of a food you are desperately craving?  A single serving of Pringles is 16 "crisps."  16 seems like a big number, but in all actuality 16 Pringles is nothing.  Especially if you eat them the way I do.  Two stacked concave side down on my tongue. Crunch!  Weird, I know.  It's a texture thing.  Foodies will understand that concept.

There are six servings per container.  Any of you manage to get six servings out of one tube of Pringles?  Impossible.  Two.  Three.  *Maybe* four.  Six?  No way, José. 

So there they sit.  In my drawer waiting for me to have the willpower to eat just one serving.  They could be there awhile.

That's OK though, in a few short weeks, I'll be able to put on a bathing suit and soak up the Caribbean sunshine without fear of scaring small children. 

Can't wait!

no summer for me...

I turned on the news this morning, and our always happy and chipper weather girl (OK I admit that's probably sexist, but I'm sorry she looks like she's *maybe* 14 AND she's a girl talking about the weather) gave me the news that there is a possibility of snow tonight and into tomorrow and our temperatures are going to be "crisp" and "chilly." 

This is just wrong.

• NO one should be happy and chipper at 5:00 in the morning.
• Snow?!  Whose bright idea was this?
  
• "Crisp" and "Chilly" describe foods, not weather.  Chips are crisp and go really well with salsa and a nice chilly margarita.  French fries are crisp and are awesome with a nice chilly beer.  Weather should be "warm" or "balmy" or even "hot" as far as I'm concerned.

Alas, I did not really get my summer this year.  I got spring that went on for six months and it looks to be followed immediately by winter.  Maybe we'll get an autumn.  I can kinda deal with autumn.  After all there are pretty colors and it's not always "crisp" or "chilly;" autumn can be downright toasty.  Winter I'm not looking forward to so much.

Lots of folks really enjoy autumn and cool cold days and nights.  Cold for me is anything under 80 degrees.  These folks will go all nostalgic on me and talk about walking down a trail with leaves littering their path, the delicious aroma of apple pies baking wafting through the air, the exciting nip in the air that is just a precursor to the winter ahead, the sounds of children out laughing in the field picking the perfect pumpkin for their Halloween jack-o-lantern, and so on and so on.

First off, I don't know about this whole leaves littering the path thing.  It's more like my yard is shortly going to be covered in leaves and I'll have to get them all raked and bagged.  Or I could just leave them and let them blow into the common area across the street or into the neighbors' yards.  Not very neighborly of me, so I'll rake 'em and bag 'em.  Or hire someone.  The leaves are pretty.  On the trees.

from a trip to Rocky Mountain National Park

Second, assuming anyone is really taking the time and energy to bake an apple pie, the houses today are built so airtight there is no "delicious aroma wafting through the air."  Unless you're inside and you're the one baking the pie.  Honestly, I don't know that many people that actually bake anymore. Except me, but I'm trying to watch the calories, so there's no apple pie baking going on at my house.

Third, as far as I'm concerned there is no "exciting" nip in the air.  Unless it's coming from a fanged beast, then it goes way beyond exciting and really doesn't have anything to do with the weather.  The nip in the air is nature's way of telling me, "HA!  I found you and now I'm going to torture you for the next few months with cold and snow and wind and more cold."  Gee.  I can hardly wait for that.

 what is known as "winter driving conditions"

Children out picking out the perfect pumpkin is kinda neat.  They do get so excited and take it very seriously, so I can't really fault that little bit of nostalgia.  Its' cute to see a little tyke trying mightily to pick up the "biggest" "bestest" pumpkin in the field - and the thing is as big as they are!  I like jack-o-lanterns.  I like carving them.  I like seeing all the little kids dressed up in their Halloween costumes.  It's fun.  But that's only one day out of ~90.

where's the candy?

I guess I'm just sad that I missed out on summer.  I kept waiting and waiting for those 90 to 100 degree days, and they never showed up.  Hearing that it's going to be "crisp," "chilly," and there's a chance of snow just means  that summer is well and truly over.  And I'm going to have to wait until next year for a summer.  I'm really hoping we get one.

I want to be "some tomato"

Gardening is one of my favorite hobbies, and now that I'm a full fledged homeowner, I get to do just that.

The only issue I'm facing is my sister did landscaping that was easy for her to keep up with and didn't require a lot of attention or time, but that she could just enjoy.  But it just isn't conducive to my style of gardening.

The back yard is pretty much river bed.  While it's beautiful in its own way, it does not lend itself to planting flowers, or more importantly vegetables.

I will spend the fall getting the back garden cleaned up and possibly have the rock removed.  That will leave me the winter to plan and design my garden.

The book I've used in the past that has served me well, and is what I refer to as, "my bible" is the Sunset Western Garden Book.  My last one was so old, worn, and tattered; I had to find a replacement.  I will spend countless hours poring over each page, putting the garden together like a live jigsaw puzzle.  I'm looking forward to this to get me through the long, cold, dark days of winter.

All of this garden thinking made me remember a poem I read in a book called "When I'm an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple."  It's a great book – if you haven't read it, you should.  Mary-Louise and I laughed and cried our way through that book, and in her words, "This is so YOU!"

Here's the poem that is "me." 

Post Humus

Scatter my ashes in my garden

so I can be near my loves.

Say a few honest words,

sing a gentle song,

join hands in a circle of flesh.

Please tell some stories

about me making you laugh.

I love to make you laugh.

When I've had time to settle

and green gathers into buds,

remember I love blossoms

bursting in spring.

As the season ripens

remember my persistent passion.

And if you come in my garden

on an August afternoon,

pluck a bright red globe,

let the juice run down your chin

and the seeds stick to your cheek.

When I'm dead I want folks to smile and say...

"That Patti, she sure is some tomato!"

By Patti Tana

If it is read for me, I think you can replace "Patti" with "Ruth."  Hopefully, she won't mind.

Just for fun

So, in order to start the weekend off on a good foot, I thought I'd share some funnies with you. I'm sort of having a writer's block thingy here, and yes, it's probably cheating, but it's my blog and I can do what I want.

My daughter sent these to me. I'm sure they've been cruising the ethernet for years now, but they're still amusing to me.

10 Words That Don't Exist, but Should

• AQUADEXTROUS (ak wa deks'trus) adj. Possessing the ability to turn the bathtub tap on and off with your toes. 

• CARPERPETUATION (kar'pur pet u a shun) n. The act, when vacuuming, of running over a string or a piece of lint at least a dozen times, reaching over and picking it up, examining it, then putting it back down to give the vacuum one more chance. 

• DISCONFECT (dis kon fekt') v. To sterilize the piece of confection (lollipop) you dropped on the floor by blowing on it, assuming this will somehow 'remove' all the germs.

• ELBONICS (el bon'iks) n. The actions of two people maneuvering for one armrest in a movie theater (or on an airplane.) 

• FRUST (frust) n. The small line of debris that refuses to be swept onto the dust pan and keeps backing a person across the room until he finally decides to give up and sweep it under the rug. 

• LACTOMANGULATION (lak' to man gyu lay' shun) n. Manhandling the "open here" spout on a milk container so badly that one has to resort to the 'illegal' side. 

• PEPPIER (peph ee ay') n. The waiter at a fancy restaurant whose sole purpose seems to be walking around asking diners if they want fresh ground pepper. 

• PHONESIA (fo nee' zhuh) n. The affliction of dialing a phone number and forgetting whom you were calling just as they answer.

• PUPKUS (pup'kus) n. The moist residue left on a window after a dog presses its nose to it. 

• TELECRASTINATION (tel e kras tin ay' shun) n. The act of always letting the phone ring at least twice before you pick it up, even when you're only six inches away.

Yellowstone National Park - You Gotta Go!!

A couple of weeks ago, I made a spur of the moment decision to head up to Yellowstone National Park over the long Labor Day weekend.  At the time there were no accommodations available in the park, so I reserved a hotel in West Yellowstone, MT.  Staying in the park is much more appealing to me, but I considered myself lucky to have found anything within a hundred mile radius of the park.  A few days before the trip, I scored big time and found a couple of cabins in the Canyon area of the park.  Yippeeee!!

 

Canyon Cabins

The cabins were "rustic" but clean.  In reading some reviews on these particular cabins, I noticed people tended to complain on the lack of amenities such as televisions, telephones, internet access, etc.  There were also many complaints on the cabins being old and rundown.  I found all of this quite amusing, especially having seen all of this information on the Xanterra website over the past 8 or 9 years.  Xanterra is the company that runs all of the concessions in the park, including food and lodging.  They are brutally honest about the amenities provided, so there should be no room for doubt on what to expect.  They state specifically, "In Yellowstone, televisions, radios, air conditioning, and wireless internet is not available.  In-room phones are not available at all locations.  Cell phone coverage is very limited throughout the park.  Swimming pools are not available."  Pretty clear, no?  Apparently not.

Their website also informs the reader that these cabins were built in the 1950s and have only undergone "basic" renovations in the past several years.  Read that again, "basic."  Some of the other cabins in the park were built in the 1920s, so you know we aren't talking 5 star resort/spa facilities.

Frankly, for my purposes, the cabins are perfect.  They're in the park, they're clean, and the beds are comfy.  Staying in the park cabins just adds to the ambiance of being in one of the most beautiful and rugged areas of our country.  There's a lot to be said for ambiance.  *I'm* not looking for five star resort quality accomodations in a national park.  I'm looking for someplace clean and dry to lay my head after a long day of hiking, photography, sightseeing, and avoiding large furry animals in the road.

 

He can take out a large car; I've seen it happen.

I love Yellowstone Park.  My dream job I think would be to a park ranger.  In Yellowstone.  In the summer.

My only issue would be trying to control myself while dealing with people who are ignorant of the fact that Yellowstone is a wild and potentially dangerous environment.  Worse yet, would be trying to deal with the people who are aware of the dangers, yet choose to ignore them.  Each time I visit the park, I am amazed and dismayed by some of the things people do.  For instance, this past trip, we came back to our cabin after a day out exploring and were greeted by a couple with two small children.  They were very excited about a bison that was lounging in the grass in front of another cabin just down the road.  They felt we really should go see this, and they proceeded to tell the children (the oldest being *maybe* 7 or 8) to LEAD US TO WHERE THE BISON WAS RESTING!  What?!  Are you kidding me?!  They were happily sending these kids off with complete strangers AND asking them to lead us to a very large, unpredictable, and dangerous animal.

Four people on average are injured by bison in the park each year.  That may not sound like very many, unless you are one of those four.

So, I'm not so sure it would be a good fit if I was to have to deal with that sort of stupidity on a daily basis.  As most of you know, I don't suffer fools well.

Yellowstone has got to be one of the most beautiful and amazing places on earth.  The landscape is so varied that it's very difficult to describe.  How about some photos instead?

 

Lake Yellowstone

 

Lower Falls

Mammoth Hot Springs

Hayden Valley

Norris Geyser Basin

a bird that joined us for a picnic

It's essential to plan ahead if you're wanting to stay in the park; especially if there is a particular area you are crazy about.  My favorite place to stay is the Lake Yellowstone Cabins which are situated, oddly enough, near Lake Yellowstone.

Lake Yellowstone Cabins

 .

These cabins have been refurbished over the past few years and aren't quite as rustic as the cabins in the Canyon area.  It's an easy walk to the lake to watch the sunrise or sunset (take someone with you); and deer, bison, bear, and coyote frequent the area, which is why you don't want to wander off alone. 

All in all, I think it's the best location in the park.

I can't wait to go back!  In fact, I just booked another week long stay for next August. 

Only 332 days to go.  Not as if I'm counting or anything.