Wednesday, August 11, 2004
Juxtaposition
My last day of work as a summer associate at a big DC law firm was certainly a strange one, at least in the way of food. There were only three days all summer long that I didn't get lunch provided for me in one way or another, and two of those days I specifically foregoed (forewent?) the firm lunch because I wanted to have lunch with a friend. But your last day, you're entitled to a big Last Lunch at an extra fancy place.
I chose The Prime Rib, as it is apparently the favorite of the head name partner. He talks about it all the time, and it's just down the street. I figured this was probably my only chance to go to a restaurant that fancy-schmancy, because I sure as heck ain't payin' my own way at a place like that. This was my first experience at a restaurant with a jacket-and-tie dress code. The carpeting was green leopard print. The walls were black lacquer with gold trim, and there was a glass-topped grand piano in the middle of the dining room, where a smiling elderly man (the only employee who was merely wearing a suit, not a tux) was playing "Paper Moon" and "Unforgettable." The prime rib at The Prime Rib (I know, it's the same sucker-ification as The Cheesecake Factory) was excellent.
A few hours later, I had changed into the required T-shirt and shorts to accompany the summer class to the Bethesda Crab House. Here, the tables were covered with newspapers, the ceiling fans were the only form of air conditioning, and the wait staff just plopped a huge plate full of whole crabs in front of you. Quite the different dining environment. This was my first pull-apart crab-eating experience, and I learned how to do it fairly well, though I only ate two crabs (the prime rib and the huge appetizer plate of shrimp had filled me up, though I didn't eat breakfast that day). I need some more practice with the mallet so I don't end up with shards of shell in the tiny morsels of meat. And I'm sure there were some morsels I simply didn't have the patience to poke out. But my hands reeked of crab for a day, and I went home happy.
What a weird day.
I chose The Prime Rib, as it is apparently the favorite of the head name partner. He talks about it all the time, and it's just down the street. I figured this was probably my only chance to go to a restaurant that fancy-schmancy, because I sure as heck ain't payin' my own way at a place like that. This was my first experience at a restaurant with a jacket-and-tie dress code. The carpeting was green leopard print. The walls were black lacquer with gold trim, and there was a glass-topped grand piano in the middle of the dining room, where a smiling elderly man (the only employee who was merely wearing a suit, not a tux) was playing "Paper Moon" and "Unforgettable." The prime rib at The Prime Rib (I know, it's the same sucker-ification as The Cheesecake Factory) was excellent.
A few hours later, I had changed into the required T-shirt and shorts to accompany the summer class to the Bethesda Crab House. Here, the tables were covered with newspapers, the ceiling fans were the only form of air conditioning, and the wait staff just plopped a huge plate full of whole crabs in front of you. Quite the different dining environment. This was my first pull-apart crab-eating experience, and I learned how to do it fairly well, though I only ate two crabs (the prime rib and the huge appetizer plate of shrimp had filled me up, though I didn't eat breakfast that day). I need some more practice with the mallet so I don't end up with shards of shell in the tiny morsels of meat. And I'm sure there were some morsels I simply didn't have the patience to poke out. But my hands reeked of crab for a day, and I went home happy.
What a weird day.
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