Ruby Tuesday

1120 Shapiro Dr.
Festus, Mo.
On The Net

Earlier in the week I got word from Angel. "We have a Ruby Tuesday coupon."
Hint, taken.
Of all the franchise bar/restaurants, It's about the only one we go to very often. It's never been perfect, but it is only rarely terrible.
It was because of a very bad night at RT that we started looking for other places to eat back in 2009. You could say that Ruby Tuesday is the birthplace of Eat and Critique.
The Place:
It used to have walls lined with junk. Sports junk, iron tools, etc. Much like 'Chotchkies' in the movie 'Office Space'. They got rid of all that 'flair' a few years ago, painted the walls, toned it down a little.
It still has a central bar, but overall it is no longer an open invitation to frat-style rowdiness.
There are booths on the sides, a bar area, and an entry. Separating the bar from the entry is the world's best salad bar. This bar is why Angel likes going here. Meals are chosen to be compatible with a mega-load of salad.
A couple of young ladies greeted at the podium and chatted over charts, finally deciding to put us in pretty much the same booth as we always end up in.
Pretty soon, a young, energetic man stopped by asking for drink orders. We replied with the usual. He skittered away.
The Food:
I scanned the menu, Angel and Adam debated appetizers. I don't usually get involved in appetizer discussions, I only rarely partake. They usually want wings, which I do not care for.
When the young man delivered our drinks and Angel put in the appetizer order. I heard the word 'sampler'. Something must have caught her eye that Adam might not care for. That could be a lot of things.
It didn't take long before the menus were closed. In front of us were some of those luscious cheddar biscuits. I held off, I had a plan.
As we waited I noticed the tea glasses. Or rather mugs, worse, plastic mugs. I don't like drinking out of plastic cups. We have a few at home that I've never had a drink from. I'd rather drink from a Bundt pan than a plastic cup. That is usually not an option at restaurants though. I expect a plastic cup in lower end places. RT is not lower end. Besides, this was a cheaply made, faux beer mug. I'm sure RT has a bunch of actual glass mugs at the bar. . .
Seriously, like the Styrofoam cups at Savannah's Smokehouse last week, this sort of thing is one of those annoying little details that just set up for a 'beneath my price range' mood. I knew going in that this bill would be in the sixty five to seventy five dollar range. Give me an actual glass for Pete's sake!

 No time for that now though. We placed our entree orders:
Me: Top Sirloin, fries, salad bar.
Angel: New Orleans Seafood, Zucchini (blech!) and salad bar.
Adam: Rids and Chicken Tenders, with fries.
The young man almost got trampled in our rush to the salad bar. There's
nothing exotic at the bar, there's just a lot of variety, a whole lot. And lots of types of dressing as well. I loaded my plate up with a few greens, mushrooms, onions, cucumbers, peppers, cheese, bacon bits, egg, etc. Thousand Island dressing this eve'.
The appetizer tray arrived, four selections. Spicy wings as orange as expected. That color of orange is only found in one place in nature, traffic cones and barrels. I've never looked at a construction site and drooled for the flavor of anything that color. In the service, I once painted my office that color. The Inspector General was making the rounds and I'd read a report that said that this color is a people repellent.  It also causes headaches after a day or so.
Also on the tray were some un-spicy wings, miniature cheese logs, or something, and tiny Thai spring rolls.
This is apparently what caught Angel's eye. Adam would never touch one of those. I would though.
So I tried one. Not bad, not bad at all. Pretty darn good as a matter of fact. Angel agreed. That's the only thing I tried. Adam tore into the messy orange wings. They'd asked for the 'mild' version, Angel said it was still too spicy for her. Adam seemed to like it though. Most of the rest of the stuff ended up in a box, bound for Adam's lunch bag. He had to work that night.
I gulped down most of my gloppy salad, too much dressing again. It sure was good though.
Soon, too soon, the entrees arrived. This has been one of my complaints in the past. Badly timed courses. It doesn't happen every time, just often enough to be frustrating, leaving the table with too many plates and having to choose between abandoning or finishing the salad and appetizers while the entrees slid toward room temperature.

I pushed the salad plate aside. Steak trumps all.
I carved a sliver off the left side. The juices started flooding, threatening to drench the fries. I didn't care, the fries were an afterthought. I wanted steak. Besides, the fries weren't all that special anyhow, maybe an afterthought for the kitchen crew as well. Too much salt.
The steak did not cut easily. This worried me. I recalled having a problem like this at RT before. So I sawed through it with the finesse of a hyena. I was right, the steak was perfect, buttery, not tough to chew at all. For some reason, I doubt if it was concern for my safety, the steak knife was better suited for clubbing than slicing.
The steak itself though, was excellent. Not topped or sauced, just bare, naked, charred and bloody meat on my tongue. A little salt, a little pepper, a bit of butter and a flame. All a good cut of beef ever really needs. I saved a little though, to go with the cheddar biscuits. Sunday breakfast with steak, eggs and some of those little red potatoes I'd picked up at a produce stand earlier in the day.
Angel likes seafood. But I repeat myself. Her plate was packed with zucchini (blech!) and a tilapia filet coated in 'Parmesan cream sauce'  and drizzled with some shrimp. Mostly zucchini (blech!) though. Later in the meal I noticed the fish barely looked touched. "The sauce is too salty." She reported. Fortunately, the zucchini was good. I told her I sincerely doubted that. Zucchini, to me, is like Pleather. It's fake food. You use zucchini when there's nothing else available, or if you are trying to replace something on your plate with a more healthy, if not more disgusting, alternative.
"I'll order something less daring next time." She summarized.
I shared a sliver of steak with her. Yeah, it was good.
Adam, not surprisingly, didn't say much about his plate. He inherited a

double dose of introvert. Or is it introvert squared? Anyway, he doesn't say much about anything. For example, when asked if his messy batch of ribs was good, he answered: "It's ribs." He also finally said that he was not impressed with the fries. He struggled mightily and messily breaking down the ribs. He must have had an even duller knife than I did. They did provide extra napkins though, which was good since with him going after those ribs with a blunt instrument there was splatter, not unlike the front row at a Gallagher show, during the trademark sledge hammer  vs. watermelon bit.
I suppose the chicken was fine, he said nothing about that, but it did end up in his takeout box.
No dessert, thanks.
Summary:
If it sounds like a mixed review, well that's kind of typical for Ruby Tuesday. Some things are great, some, just not quite right. The bill came in under sixty five dollars, after a ten dollar appetizer coupon. I tipped the difference. The young man was most satisfactory, he kept the drinks refilled and was attentive to our desires, such as actually leaving out the ice when Angel asked for more tea 'without ice'. No complaints about Ryan S. (That's what the receipt says.)
Angel pointed out that the busing crew was MIA, a table beside ours hadn't been cleared the whole time we were there.
Details, those annoying little details.
And that's the thing. These issues are 100% laziness or mismanaged priorities. The awful plastic
mugs, the mis-timed serving, the lackluster fries and overly salty fish, nothing that required any actual recipe really popped. The steak was excellent, but that was 90% cut quality and only 10% skill. Details, details . . . at a price I don't really think worthy of such annoying details.
We'll go back, salad bar, and the steak is pretty good. But other offerings? We're still searching for go-to alternatives.

Ruby Tuesday

Your usual wordsmith is out of town this weekend to join his siblings in Kentucky. I am his son, Adam, who you may have read about in previous posts as the quiet one with opinions ranging from “fine” to “not bad”. I am not as verbose as my father, who has been reading and dabbling in writing longer than I have been alive, so you won’t see me using words like “wainscoted” or other such snobby language. He insisted my mother take pictures of our meal, so I decided to take the helm of this week’s blog. I have attempted writing before, but could never muster the motivation for anything extensive, so this might be a fun exercise.
The Place:
Ruby Tuesday, an old favorite. Well, “favorite” may not be the right word. This was one of the few places we dined at before starting this blog and escaping our rut. Our adventures in trying new places has noticeably expanded our palettes, most obviously with another classic, Bob Evans, growing just too salty for us these days. Quickly burning through established chains early on led us to lesser known locations, growing our taste even more and allowing us to see that, hey, there is some real quality food out there if you actually go beyond the usual. Perhaps this is why I had such a scathing review of O’Charleys recently, or, perhaps, they are just not great in general. Either way, our continuing return trips to Ruby Tuesday, what surely must be our most visited location at this point, show just how good it is. Or maybe it’s nostalgia.

The Food:
We were seated in a booth, which had a loose table rather than a bolted one. This is nice if you

 want to shift it around, but I much prefer a stationary surface. After a moment we were greeted by our waiter, an odd fellow. I didn’t catch his name, but he reminded me a lot of Otho from the movie Beetlejuice.
We put in our drink orders: my mother a sweet tea, myself a Coke. Their menu had changed quite a bit over the years due to an apparent initiative to become more than just a typical family eatery. This works for the better in terms of the food quality and creating a more focused variety, but results in me never remembering what they have.
A scan of the menu revealed some new features, most notably sandwiches and burgers being served on pretzel buns. This intrigued me. Local shop Cool Beans (which is currently remodeling! We will definitely be returning soon) feature pretzel buns, so I know from experience they are good. This time, however, I wasn’t quite that hungry, so I decided on another new option: a half rack of barbecue ribs and “southern” style hand breaded chicken

tenders, with a side of fries. My mother also chose a half rack of ribs, but with a request for a skewer of grilled shrimp. She then asked to have the salad bar as one of her two sides, but Otho had to decline. He apologized that, much to his disdain and continued protests, the salad bar can only be added on, not used as a side. She sighed but got it anyway, instead ordering her two sides as spaghetti squash and cooked zucchini. I’m unclear why she felt the need to punish herself by ordering these, but I didn’t pry. Otho headed for the kitchen and my mother went for her salad. Since I did not get a salad, she jokingly warned that I would not be allowed at her croutons. I scoffed at the idea, and recommended just grabbing extra. Several minutes later Otho returned with cheese biscuits, fresh out of the oven. They remind me of the similar biscuits served by Red Lobster, but since that place is otherwise terrible, Ruby Tuesday having them dismisses any chance of going back there. Warm, cheesy, soft. They were excellent.

Our meals arrived. I don’t usually order ribs, but these looked quite good. So much so that the lady seated at the table behind us ended up changing her previous order to the ribs. The meat fell right off the bone, much to my delight. I am not a fan of eating around a bone. Too much of a hassle. The meat itself was quite tasty, but not wonderful. Ribs are good, but I prefer other areas of the cow more, I suppose. As for the chicken, it was very tender, and the seasoning was quite… “southern” I guess you could say. A side of honey mustard made them even better. The fries were crispy but not crunchy, and seasoned well.My mother agreed about the ribs, which is all I rea
lly needed to hear, but then she commented on the slop she considered sides.
The zucchini, she says, was good, but the squash was not her cup of tea. No fault of the restaurant itself, just not something she liked. I acted surprised by this finding.

Summary:
Of course it was good. Ruby Tuesday is a constant in our new world of dining. Not spectacular, but never awful. Above average and with enough variety that our return trips never grow tiresome.
Otho was having a rough day, and I sympathize with him. I myself work in the food industry and sometimes have opinions about what management does. He regularly checked up on us, made sure we understood everything, refilled our drinks in a timely manner, and was otherwise perfectly friendly. He just needs a break.



Editor's Note:
If I must add anything from this meal, it is about the shrimp skewer. I wasn't there, but I certainly heard about it. The skewer cost $3 and had a grand total of 3 shrimp. Angel mentioned this several times, many, many times. (DCB)