Mar 10, 2012 0
Worthiness to enter Del Frisco’s without a reservation is not going to become reality for basic commoners. Don’t even think about it. Beat it. Get lost. Scram. The nerve of a regular-non-important-pathetic-excuse-for-a-customer coming in without a reservation is simply rubbish at the highest level of all rubbishness. Those arriving merely as peasants must belly up to the bar & wait to be chosen.
Some hostesses are somewhat like the mailman that just can’t take it anymore. Their disgust is unleashed to the heavens with a roar upon realizing the scum before them do not have a… reservation. Hostess philosophy stands firm in that it does not take that much effort to pick up your iPhone or, for the love of God, log on to… Open Table.
First thoughts after perusing the menu: Really? It’s not like we are at Jean Georges, ya know. Chill. Out. I can see slapping grille on the title is supposed to bring things down a notch. Right? Regardless, we immediately felt wrath secretly being unleashed throughout their mind. As they imagined all customers without a reservation being glazed over the open fire outback, we knew it was time to find a seat at the bar.
Investigating our current surroundings was the only option. One couldn’t help but notice a single socialite ever so helplessly falling asleep at the bar. Would her white hat tilt just a little more, causing almost one nail to break as she tirelessly tries to catch the rim for total hat recovery? As her head dizzily swooped left, then (pause) right, all witnessing could only gasp.
Whether it be prosecco or a honey badger shot with tuaca, fresh sweet & sour, and pineapple juice, Del Frisco’s offers an array of drinks. Crafted cocktails such as the VIP, Uptown Hottie, and Cosmo Skinny, um, can all be yours for $10 each.
After munching on tuna tartare tacos with avocado & spicy citrus mayo, we decided to head next door to Private Social, thus ending this mini adventure. Please & Thanks.
A few weeks passed before becoming a passenger in a car headed directly toward the valet of none other than Del Frisco’s Grille. All was quickly confirmed that it was indeed a Friday night in Dallas, and we did not possess a reservation. “No worries!” barked the driver of this vehicle, for in his possession was a coin of mystical wonder. What happened next morphed AVH into the twilight zone.
Hostess Silver Coin Conversation Reenactment:
Hostess: What time is your reservation?
Guy In Our Party Of Four: We don’t have a reservation.
Hostess: Oh, we are booked tonight.
Guy In Our Party Of Four: (Slowly reaches into his left pocket and ever so gently places a silver coin in front of the hostess)
Hostess: (Whispering with words filled with angst & apology) “I am so sorry sir. Just one moment and your table will be ready.”
As almost 18 sorda socialites stood helplessly at the bar without a table, we were whisked in with our silver coin leading the way. True story.
Fact: Present this coin to the first possible employee at any Del Frisco’s in existence, to receive immediate seating slash ass kissing restaurant power like no other.
After listening to a non formal explanation, this coin is indeed given to big spenders. The who’s your daddy daddy’s of Texas. I’m sorry people without a coin, your place is at the end of the line. Exit. Do not pass go. Do not enter. No soup for you. Don’t even think your man has a coin if he’s not a high roller. Peace out.
As a self proclaimed deviled egg connoisseur, it can be considered fact that the deviled eggs with truffle-chive vinaigrette are sorda scary. Truffle mania across the nation is a bummer. Lay off the truffle people.
Jumbo lump crabcake with Cajun lobster sauce caused rainbows & sunshine at our table, or maybe, just maybe, Del Frisco’s ordered the sun to shine and rainbows to exist after realizing this guy has a… coin.
This 16 ounce ribeye is just one prize placed in the signature steak section of the menu. For the uneducated cow parts people out there, let us take a moment to explain how this particular part of the cow is in fact a “ribeye.” You see, only ribs six through twelve have a chance to obtain this name. Ribeye steaks just might contain the spinalis or complexus muscles, but it’s usually the longissimus dorsi muscle of the cow.
Moving right along…
Pan-braised wild mushrooms can be found in the lil’ somethin’ somethin’ section of the menu. Exciting. Del Frisco’s also offers a jalapeño bacon mac & cheese, gristmill grits with Cajun lobster gravy, spinach supreme, and roasted garlic mashed potatoes.
Chicken fried shrimp with creamy grits, crisp okra, and BBQ-lime vinaigrette arrived minus the chicken fried. Other dishes include sesame chive crusted ahi tuna steak in a ponzu sauce with a chilled noodle salad, as well as an arugula-cherry tomato salad with lump crab & chive lemon butter.
Excuse me. How do I tell the coin holder’s fiancé her hand is preventing this coconut cream pie picture from being fabulous?
After an hour of ass kissing, our server finally reached his limit. His apron had come untied and fallen to the ground as he reached our table to discuss dessert. As he picked it up, to soon became one with us again, he said, “You know, this is not okay. I’m an awesome server and all this ass kissing is making me crazy. I would have given great service anyway.”
He has a point. Forced ass kissing is painful. It hurts. A lot. It forces unnecessary over thinking. If you’re good at what you do, why worry? Forget about it. Service expectations should be across the board, not reserved for the coin masters of America. After analyzing this so called coin of privilege, this mystery is officially unraveled. Why not have complete confidence in your staff? Is it really necessary? As a nobody, um, it’s wrong not to kiss all of our asses.
Four strawberries minus one for coin causing mental anguish your servers endure =
FIVE: High 5!
FOUR: Please & Thank You
TWO: Double Wow
ONE: Wow + Ouch = Wouch