If you're a regular visitor to this corner of the web, you know that while I regularly review a lot of "Greasy Spoon"-type establishments, I OCCASIONALLY venture out to a nicer class of restaurant. This past weekend I surpassed even that. I was lucky enough to be treated to dinner at one of Connecticut's PREMIERE restaurants: the Carmen Anthony Steakhouse in Waterbury.
The occasion was a belated Christmas gift from one of my wife's salesmen, Eric. They have worked together for quite some time, and a few years ago Eric had decided that it would be a lot more fun to have Teresa and I accompany him and his wife Jen to one of his client's restaurants, rather than just giving her money or a gift for the holiday. The first two years we had been going to Drescher's, another fine establishment in Waterbury, but this year Eric had opted for a change, which led to our encounter with Carmen Anthony.
As soon as we had checked our coats, I had an inkling as to what to expect. As we walked through the narrow hall to the main dining rooms, we passed a wall of wooden lockers that Eric explained were for the use of the restaurant's upscale clientele to make sure that their favorite wine was always on hand. Among the names on the little gold plates were two I immediately recognized: Connecticut Governor John Rowland and Waterbury Mayor Phil Giordano. We were shown to our table, a very posh corner booth I might add, and our waiter, attired in a beige butcher's coat & white apron, brought us our menus. One look at the menu, and I was glad this wasn't going on my AMEX card. The average entree was about 20 dollars, and since this was a la carte, that did NOT include a vegetable, potato, or salad! The waiter then took our drink orders, and left us to mull over our choices.
The menu was definitely slanted towards beef (Carmen Anthony also owns & operates two seafood houses in the state), and the steak choices were divided into Italian specialties (served with rotini pasta) and American cuts (served with frizzled onions). There were also a few more varied choices: chicken, pork chops, and veal , but it was clear that here beef was king. Soon our waiter was back to give us the evening's specials, and one definitely caught my ear. Prime rib, roasted to perfection, then seasoned & grilled to taste. The rest of my table opted for the filet mignon, and our dinner orders, along with orders for appetizers (calamari for Eric and Jen, escargot for me) were whisked off to the kitchen.
The appetizers arrived about 10 minutes later, along with some assorted breads & crackers with butter. Eric and Jen's calamari was very fresh and tasty, but it was not served with marinara sauce (it was brought out at our request.) The escargot were tender and I got plenty (12), but the butter sauce was not as garlicky as I would have liked. Then again, NOTHING ever has enough garlic for my taste, so I'm not the person to judge.
Soon the salads arrived. Eric, Jen, and Teresa were brought plates of crisp greens with Gorgonzola cheese and Italian dressing. No complaints there. Next up was dinner. We had all erred on the side of caution size-wise and stuck with smaller cuts. The filets were a generous 10-ounce piece, well over an inch and a half thick. My 18-ounce prime rib was not quite as thick, but when that scent hit my nose I really didn't care. I took my first bite and nearly passed out with bliss. The meat was perfectly pink (i.e. medium rare) and the seasoning was enough to be tantalizing without being overpowering. Everyone else seemed equally as satisfied with their steaks and sides (Teresa, baked potato; Jen, asparagus spears with Hollandaise sauce,) and the conversation at the table was replaced with contented sounds of 4 people thoroughly enjoying their meals.
A few observations on the events up to this point: The first thing that struck me was that the waiter NEVER touched the food. He was always there as we were being served, but it was the busboys that did the actual distribution of the food. The other thing that I thought was kind of neat was the bus staff all carried tiny little squeegee-like brooms to clear the crumbs from the table. None of this distracted from the service we received, and more than likely enhanced it. Our waiter was always ready to refill a drink or attend to any other detail, but not to the point of lingering by our table. Another thing that struck me was the clientele. Although we were dressed sort of casually, we were not the lone people without a tie. However there was definitely a good representation of the "Shirt & Tie" set on hand. A quick double-take revealed that another political big-wig, Connecticut Senator Chris Dodd, was dining a few tables over.
Anyway, back to the food. After we had finished (Actually, I was the only one who cleared his plate), it was time for dessert. A quick survey of the after-dinner bill of fare and my heart leapt. This had to be the most well-stocked bar I had ever seen, with more than a half-dozen grappas, a dozen ports, another dozen cognacs, and well over two dozen single-malt scotches listed, among them Lagavulin, my personal favorite. It was at this point that our waiter noticed the cigars that were in front of me and asked if the gentleman (I can only assume he meant Eric and myself) would like to have a seat at the bar where we could smoke while the ladies had dessert. This sounded like a fine idea, but as Eric and I moved to get up, the waiter stopped us and said, "Give me a quick moment," before he disappeared into the bar area. He soon returned with the assurance that he had set aside two seats for us at the bar and arranged with the bartender to have our drinks added to our dinner bill. But he needed to know if we would be "taking care" of the bartenders, or should he? We were a bit perplexed by this, and sensing our confusion, explained "I'm not allowed to say the WORD!" Ahhh... no, we would take care of the bartender's tip. As we headed towards the bar, I thought to myself that this "star treatment" was definitely something I could get used to.
It was in the bar that we had our only minor snag. It seemed that the group of women adjacent to our seats had laid claim to one of the two chairs our waiter had tried to hold for us. The bartender apologized for this, explaining that the woman who took it was debating whether to leave, but had changed her mind. We got our revenge however, as it became obvious that she was not at all fond of cigar smoke, but the bartender (a female bartender I might add) did like them quite a bit and asked where I had gotten them. After telling her they were relatively inexpensive (read "cheap") and available from the Thompson Cigar Co. catalog, we sat back and enjoyed a good smoke and fine scotch whisky.
Upon returning to the table, we tasted a bit of the girls' leftover dessert (Teresa had gotten apple crisp; I'm not sure what Jen had but there wasn't much left of it) and Eric settled our bill. Now, I would NEVER ask to see a check when I'm a guest, but after we were in the car, Teresa and I guessed it to be in the neighborhood of $200 -$225 before the tip! And so, even though it was quite probably the best meal I have ever had, the likelihood of going back to Carmen Anthony is slim. But if you've got some disposable income and want a taste of how the upper class eats, this is definitely the place to do it. Bon Apetit.