Moooo

Yesterday I had dinner at Rustler's Roost, which was billed as a steak house, but was actually more of a steak theme park. It's perched up on the only hill in Tempe, looking out over the infinite sprawl.

As you walk in there's a bull in a little tiny pen to lend the place the authentic smell of cow. The hostesses all have dark hair with blond streaks and wear red and white plaid shirts. On the way to my table I walked by a real, live, authentic country band who played a number of songs I didn't recognize, and one by Johnny Cash that I did. Descending to the eating area I had the choice of stairs or a slide. Since the slide was full of 8 year olds, I chose the stairs.

The floor was covered in wood shavings, the tables where lit by oil lamps, and the menu was full of creatively named food items. I got a 10oz Filet with mixed vegetables, corn on the cobb, rolls with 2 kinds of butter, and cowboy beans. I ate my Filet medium, since, according to the menu, that's a how a tenderfoot orders it.

The cowboy beans were a little on the disgusting side, but the rest of it was excellent. Unfortunately it was a little dark, so I had some trouble with the rolls. I grabbed roll #1 and buttered it. It was so dark, though, that I couldn't tell what kind of butter I was using, and ended up with my pre-dinner roll covered in honey cinnamon butter. Kind of weird as an appetizer. Luckily I have a Cate-like sense of smell and was able to sniff each tub of butter until I found one that wasn't oddly flavored. With the butter problem solved I triumphantly sat back and wiped the butter off my nose, picked up a second roll, and promptly dropped it on the floor. The third one was the charm.

And tonight I went to the Cheesecake Factory and ate my tradition Chicken Madera. Mmmmmmmmmmm. Chicken Madera.