Maybe -- just maybe -- we are a tad on the over-dramatic side when it comes to going to Brooklyn. After all, we have made it all the way across the country and up and down the east coast for eating purposes, and we have not murmured so much as a peep about travel inconvenience and our sudden onset of "There's no place like home"-itis.
But you ask us to cross the East River, and we turn into whiny brats.
|A BRIDGE?! What Do You Mean We Have to Go Over a BRIDGE?!|
|This = Not Us|
|Do They Not Serve Pig Anywhere in Manhattan?|
|Cut To: Frantic Whisper-Yelling "Where Do We Go? Where Do We Go? Where Do We Go?"|
|This Would Be a Bad Time to Experience a Case of Vertigo|
|Peter Luger: The King of the Early Bird Non-Special|
|Apparently We're Not the Only Ones Trying to Leave Brooklyn Before Dark|
|Hi, Yes, We're Ready to Drink Now Please|
"A menu? How do we get a WAITER? Water? Bread?" Vodka pipes up.
Clearly, leaving Manhattan has done nothing to curb our intense level of impatience.
|Napkin Folding Is Not a Skill Which Is Valued Here|
|Printed on the Same Paper as the Magna Carta|
|"I'll Be Eating Two Slices of Fat for Dinner, Thanks!"|
"I got the bacon," Ginger retorts. Vodka, for the sole reason that she has no plans to ever come back to Peter Luger and thus wants to go out with a bang, orders the single small steak. Our waiter gives us the side-eye that quite obviously translates to "cheapskates," and he pours our bargain basement wine into our glasses begrudgingly.
|"Hey Bus Boy, Give This Table the Day-Old Bread"|
|At Least They Gave Us Two Each of Everything So We Don't Have to Fight Each Other to the Death|
|One of These Plates...|
|...Is Not Like the Other|
|We'll Hand It To Them for the Knife Skills Displayed Here, but Really Now....|
|Where's the Shellfish?|
|Misleading, If Delicious, "Steak" Sauce|
|Cut Up As If Being Served to a Preschooler|
|Though If You'd Like to Offer Us a Discount on Those Tomatoes and Onions, We Won't Object|
|Note: Apparently When Ginger Is Handed the Camera...|
|...She Only Likes to Take EXTREME CLOSE-UPS|
|Who Serves Steak with a Spoon?!|
|Allegedly, This Steak Is Medium...|
|...This Steak Is Not Medium|
|Ah Well, Hand Over More Cocktail Sauce, We'll Make Do|
"You need to get a dessert to get the schlag," he answers.
"Well, how much are the desserts?" (The undertone being "If it's more than those $15 tomato slices, we're high-tailing it back to Manhattan").
"Fine, we'll take the sundae."
|Truth Be Told, We Probably Would Have Paid $11 for JUST Whipped Cream|
By other people. Not by us, but by other people.
|An Impressive Amount of Sugar|
|All of Peter's Steak Fortune Is Being Pilfered Into Personalized Chocolates|
|So THIS Is What the High-End Produce Pays For!|
Treats, and a whole day''s pay worth of tomatoes.
Peter Luger's Sizzling Bacon: 4 stars