The Bear’s Steakhouse – Duanesburg
7.54 – 8, 7.8, 7.75, 7.75, 7.5, 7.5, 7.5, 7.3
A group-OK’ed Monteverd pick had one car picking through the
twists of scenic back roads of the Helderbergs while the other
went west, then north, then east (Middleburgh, Schoharie,
Duanesburg) before reaching a much anticipated revisit at Bears’
Steakhouse, with previous visits in 2004 and 2005.
It is a simple white farmhouse, with an internally lit sign with
a cute bear, that we mostly remembered when we pulled in. The
dining room seemed half the size of what some of us remembered.
But, the almost two foot metal platter
with a succulent, almost-cut-with-a-fork Chateaubriand
re-freshened our memory banks. Although we hear a menu exists,
placing orders ahead for groups of four or more allows for a
platter like ours or of prime rib.
Server-son John quite proudly, and gently,
lowers a hefty plate of 20 generous slices of beef, sided with
four baked potatoes, a clump of carrots, and a bed of greens, in
the middle of one group of four, drawing stares of longing from
the other group, a situation quickly rectified as John returns
and fills the other table center.
A bit of broth, barely a draw of the steak
knife, and we are transported back to our favorite moments of
delectable steaks. Add a dab of horseradish beyond the norm, and
we were dream-like.
Within minutes of seating and the drink order, John nestles a
loaf of Mama Bear’s homemade white bread, accompanied by
individual butter portions.
A couple appetizers started:
A choice of soup or salad awaited. Five chose salad – a worthy
one, with excellent dressings, especially the blue cheese. Three
opted for the soup – a meal in in itself, composed with steak
ends and some hints of broth, and a vegetable. One of the best
soups on my all-time list.
Two bottles of Graffigna 2014 Malbec was a worthy accompaniment.
Menu list of $34 per bottle, found online for low-mid $20s,
making it one of the smallest mark-ups ever.
And then dessert.
Although seemingly slightly limited in
range, Bears desserts together are among the best we can find.
Service by son John: To quote an Albany reviewer; “Attentive,
cheeky and smoothly experienced.” Waiter’s attire will not
likely be imitated anywhere else but… it is the Bears.
And Chay was able to wheedle a “can’t
do that” portion of horse-radish to take home.
Ambiance, to again quote the Albany source, sums it up: “Old
fashioned, cozy, upstate classic” with a personality of “Vintage
upstate New York.” It is dated but it does not matter.
Pacing is smooth and non-rushed, taking about two hours. Only one
seating happens now, compared to two in the old days. John likes
it better, he said.
The final bill came to $186 per couple, a new record for DP8. The
old record belonged to Bears and three of our four highest bills
belong to Bears. (For the curious, Aubergine is the other.)
Scores should be mentioned. Only two other DP8 events in fifteen
years have scored higher, with this Bears score tying the third
highest of twelve years ago. (Want to guess the other two?
Answers at the very end.) Again, to quote the Albany reviewer:
“Overall Rating: The Bears' is a unique experience, a little
rough around the edges, in a star category of its own.”
Both cars headed back the same way this time, via Schoharie.
Topics of discussion in the cars and at Bears included: the
Monteverd southward trip soon, the Notar trip to Virginia, 35
blissful years for Chay & Deb, the Sagamore on Lake George,
mid-autumn gardens, the Quinns in Ireland and Italy, Chris’s
house, memories of past Bears’ visit, Mama Bear’s fall, new
Schoharie fire house, past coaching/reffing trips to other
schools a long ways off (Berlin, Sharon Springs, etc.), mediocre
foliage season, Wexler wedding coming up soon, expensive
restaurants, future DP8 dates, baseball playoffs, hurricane
damage in Florida, friends acting like parents they complain
about, traveling in deer season, dry lawns, a call to Judy about
banana cream pie, and there must have been more.
A special addition:
The Times-Union review of Bears of last year was so spot on that
I am including most of it below:
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Early Look: The Bears' Steakhouse
Meat-lovers' paradise Bears' Steakhouse a rural dining
outpost that proudly sticks to what it does best
By Susie Davidson Powell
Updated 2:12 pm, Friday, December 23, 2016
On an unassuming road upstate, The Bears' Steakhouse is an
unexpected treasure. Other than an illuminated sign with a
potbellied (and possibly intoxicated) bear waving a flagon of
beer, there's little to outwardly distinguish it from any rural
home. It's the epitome of a family-run restaurant, occupying the
first floor of Pat Payne's Duanesburg home. Pat bakes, eldest son
Robert Jr., an instructor and executive chef at Schenectady
County Community College, runs the kitchen, and his brother John
smoothly manages front-of-house.
Technically there's a menu, but that's not important for
first-time guests. The mission here is meat: great, thick welts
of it. The Bears' is famed for prime rib and a Chateaubriand that
dispenses with the usual center cut and Escoffier's traditional
sauce, instead serving the entire tenderloin — from butt to
filet mignon and tip — in ruddy, myoglobin-leaching slices. It
arrives on the kind of embossed metal platter that could carry
John the Baptist's head. About 70 percent of customers pre-order
the Chateaubriand — more than 40 whole tenderloins a week. Both
cuts, like your table, must be reserved well in advance. As
expensive as Chateaubriand roasts usually are, a whole tenderloin
for four at $179.80 is a reasonable steal.
You'll encounter vegetables, mostly local, crisply steamed and
serviceably plain. Carrots are given a crinkle cut that in salon
terms might be a "wash and set"; potatoes are simply
baked. Make no mistake: These are escorts for the meat. This is
no place for vegetarians, moral or fearful of flesh. Nor is it a
place for young children, no matter how cute or advanced the
palate. Pat calls it "an adult restaurant," so you'll
just have to overlook the friskiness that suggests. The focus is
on quality, quantity, friendly service and fair price, not your
namby-pamby restrictive diet or tantrum-throwing kids.
The Bears' has hardly changed in menu or interior since Robert
"Papa Bear" Payne and "Mama Bear" Pat opened
48 years ago. Today, as the well-oiled kitchen sends house
classics out to the dining room, Pat handles landline
reservations from her living room armchair with "Judge
Judy," "Wheel of Fortune" or "Jeopardy"
blasting in the background. Her late husband — by all accounts
an irreverent character famous for terrifying tradesmen selling
meat he deemed subpar — passed away in 2013. For gustatory
preparation, his obituary is well worth a read.
Floral walls, net valances, framed family photos and a glittering
Christmas tree beside the whiskey-hued, wall-to-ceiling knotty
pine bar bolts the winter chill outside, creating a sort of
festive, cozy upstate hygge It's welcoming, homey,
old-fashioned and — like the hardworking nubby carpet covering
the dining room's wonky floors — slightly worn.
Perched on the bar is a stuffed bear cub gripping business cards
in stiff paws. Behind it, drinks are mixed in pours powerful
enough to supercharge a Russian athlete. My towering glass of
wine — resembling a stemmed pint glass in my hand — must hold
a half bottle and lists starboard when raised in cheers. Liquors
are a common crop, though local distilleries in cocktails (take
Middleburgh's 1857 potato vodka) suggest the sons' subtle
modernizing influence even with the format unchanged.
We're not shown menus or asked how we'd like our Chateaubriand.
It will arrive medium rare to rare, as Papa Bear intended. John
— all in black, the rolled sleeves and form-fitting T a ringer
for Johnny Castle in "Dirty Dancing" — leans on
fingertips to rattle off the usual appetizers. We'll go for
inch-thick slabs of herb-dusted tomato and mozzarella with
roasted red peppers ($3.95) and drag fat, chilled shrimp ($14.95)
through the famously nose-prickling cocktail sauce packed with
house-ground horseradish. We fight over firm pickled herring
($5.25), a house favorite shot through with salty-sweetness from
two-step salt and white-wine-vinegar brines and smothered in sour
cream and capers. The kitchen ejects appetizers at a speed and in
formations that suggest neatly prepped plates ready to roll. One
nightly seating, 48 guests, a half-dozen entrées, five
appetizers — four cold and one scratch-made soup — could be a
Christmas song.
John tells us he'll slap us with the herring if we order salad
instead of his mother's beef soup, a nourishing, slow-simmered
broth made with the trimmed tenderloin chains. It's a meaty blast
of fond-rich gravy, enriched with tomatoes, and subtly sweetened
with a glug of sherry or wine. I could live on this all winter
and reach spring in good shape.
But let's talk about the Chateaubriand. The Paynes are 35 years
into a standing contract with Iowa Beef Products, and John has
taken over inspecting and rejecting shipped cases, with a little
more tact (he says) than his dad. Dry-aged for 40 days and
dry-rubbed with Robert Sr.'s original garlic-peppercorn marinade,
the enzyme-fermentation yields tenderloins soft enough to slice
with a fork. The subtle barnyard funk of ripe cheese or dank hay
notes of a Bretty red wine hits you instantly — the science of
fat oxidation and bacterial action — with a beautiful
concentration at the outer edges.
Food critic A.A. Gill said you can tell a lot about a place by
its desserts. Here, an honest place where hearty meat and
potatoes rule, desserts will pad fat reserves to see you through
a New York winter. Salty, flaky pie crusts cup the dolloped
curves of coconut, banana and blueberry cream, and a three-tier
chocolate-mousse cake is ignominiously rich. At 80 years old, Pat
makes the desserts daily and still scratch-bakes bread. (On a
call to set up photos, she was overheard yelling about opening
doors affecting the barometric air pressure where her bread was
proofing.) Daringly, John has perfected his mother's thickset New
York cheesecake, moderating its measured sweetness with a thin
layer of sour cream and homemade caramel sauce. You'll be ruined
for life.
From the vintage Syracuse "black lace" china to the
unapologetic "my way" pride, The Bears' is a pure
distillation of classic upstate. It's not easy to get a
reservation. Though the number is listed online (in earlier
years, you had to know their number or know someone who did),
calling is your only option. Reservations left on the answering
machine or sent through the sparse Facebook page (which Pat
disputes exists) are ignored. There's only one dinner seating at
5:30 or 6 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday, and most weeks are
booked well ahead. After weeks of trying, scoring a midweek 5:30
p.m. reservation for four prompted as much victory excitement as
a last-minute opening at Le Bernardin on a Saturday night.
Dinner for four — including a round of aperitif cocktails, a
$30 bottle of wine, four appetizers, Chateaubriand for four and
three desserts — came to $407.40 with tax and 20 percent tip.
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One comment so far:
I have spent many scrumptious meals at the Bears. Nothing puts a
smile on my face like a nice medium rare rib eye with baked
potato, carrots and the perfect ending of banana cream pie.
Growing up in Duanesburg, I really didn't appreciate the Bears
until I moved away and now it is a special treat to go and enjoy
bantering with John about anything and everything. If you haven't
been to The Bears, you are missing out on one of the best
culinary experiences of a lifetime. Do yourself a favor and eat
dessert first to really be able to enjoy the home made pies.
Leftovers are just as good the next day.
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answer about top two scores:
May 2004 – American Hotel #1 – 7.75
Jan 2014 – Mountain View Brasserie #7 – 7.61
Oct 2017 & Apr 2005 – Bears #2 & #3 – 7.54