Eating on the train

I don't actually have a restaurant to talk about here. This just came from the ol' wellspring of bitchiness that I drink from on an almost daily basis. Okay....so... don't eat on the fucking subway. I'm sure you're pressed for time and this may be your only opportunity to eat something before you start whatever it is that is more important that sustenance and nutrients, but it's fucking gross. It's grosser than gross. The subway system of New York City is about as sanitary as a toilet in Paris or maybe a Turkish bath changing room. You're exposed to so much foul shit that the very idea of eating should be unappetizing. I'm begging all six of you that might be reading this, spread the word. Eating on the train is a bummer.

Peter Lugers- Brooklyn

718-387-7400

What prompted me to talk about Peter Luger's is not an actual visit to the NYC steakhouse. I just returned from Obrycki's crab shack in Baltimore. I went there to have the "authentic" crab shack experience that I've heard so much about and that is only available close to the Chesapeake Bay. What I got was a watered down coke and a not-too-bad crab cake for fifty bucks. Fucking Peter Lugered.

I've been Peter Lugered more times than I'd like to count. Smith and Wollensky, JG Melon's, Oyster Bar, and even PJ Clark's on the East side have all done it to me, but none of these are better at Peter Lugering than (obviously) Peter Luger's. Actually, I stand corrected, Cheers might be the ultimate Peter Lugerer in the land. What is getting Peter Lugered? No my sick twisted followers, it is not a sexual maneuver involving a hand gun and some fecal. It is what happens when a restaurant becomes an institution and ultimately loses the quality that initially made it so yet charges prices that are inflated because they can. When I was twelve my 15-year-old brother was bored to death walking the freedom trail in Boston. He begged to go to Cheers for lunch. My parents succumbed, fearing a serious bout of pouting for the remainder of the colonial trip down memory lane. I'm sure you already know what's coming, so to wrap it up quickly we paid well over a hundred dollars for a lunch that Boston Market could have done better.

Peter Luger's is much the same. Now hold on a sec, before you discount my interpretation the steaks are good. It's a good steak. But...I've had better. I've had better in New York. I've had better steaks in Los Banos, California. And more to the point, these better steaks weren't served by some overweight, inconsiderate, Brooklyn cretin who seems to think it's a privilege to eat at such a NYC institution. And there's my beef. I appreciate Peter Luger's has been around one hundred years; in restaurant terms that's eternity. But to fleece people with such insane prices and curt unfriendly service under the auspice of an authentic New York City experience is lame. Even the website depicts these hand-tied bow ties and polished dudes from back in the day when an honest day's wage didn't include paid vacations or benefits. Luger's has taken these fellows' gumption, and through the slow, plodding degradation of generational entitlement, transformed it into a culinary tourist trap. Believe me, there's nothing left to milk. The creamed spinach: sucks. The hand cut bacon: sucks. The bottled sauce: sucks. They even carry a line of Peter Luger steak knives and cutting board! WTF? Isn't it about the simplicity of great steaks served in a humble atmosphere, free of all of the alchemy and sophistication of new cuisine techniques? Or is it about moving merchandise to unsuspecting Manhattanites?

I don't give a fuck if Peter Luger's is an institution. Lot's of things are institutions that don't necessarily connote quality: organized religion for instance, or the Macy's parade, or Disney World. What I want is a quality steak, served with quality sides, by a person who is grateful that I'm in the restaurant to begin with. And that is definitely not Peter Luger's.