Steel House - August 2012 (dt)
6.54 -- 7.25, 7, 6.5, 6.5, 6.25, 6.25, 6
After a three year absence, DP8 ventured
over the Ulster County line via the Thruway, crawled through
Kingston’s Broadway, and finally nestled into East Strand
Street and Steel House Restaurant, with its deck-edge lapping
over the Roundout Creek on a comfortably humid August evening.
The menu is a collection of American favorites – casual and
standard. Nearly twenty appetizers, most fried, tempted no one
after the Teator start, even with an hour’s drive. Two
soups, one chili, five greens, burgers, pizza, fried shrimp &
fish & scallop & “captain” accompanied the
entrée list of three beefs, one pork, two chickens, and four
seafood, two of which were specials. It was not going to be
confused with medium-upper fine dining but it was an appropriate
menu for the archetypical late summer night. Selections for the group included:
--->London
Broil (Ken: sliced with brown gravy and mashed potatoes; meat was
tough; a different prep than he was expecting but ok)
--->seafood
cioppino special—a tomato-base filled with mussels, shark,
shrimp, scallops and calamari, ringed with ten wedges of a
biscuit-bread to sop up the stewing juices (Don: a worthy try for
the evening, half went home; and Judy: good, with a lot of
seafood)
--->broiled
scallops in garlic butter and cracker-crumb topping (Deb T:
nice scallops but bread was way too much; and Tim, very good
after sending the first attempt back to warm it up, too bready)
--->fried
shrimp (Kriss: very good, with rice, as good as or better than
Maine; Chay: very good, with fries)
The LB and scallop entrées came with a
choice of mashed potatoes or French fries, and both were
considered good. The other accompaniment was the Brussels
sprouts, a standing joke with DP8 but everyone liked this Steel
House preparation.
And, the entrées also came with soup/salad,
with three choosing the salad, a large-ish bowl of mixed greens,
a couple slices of cucumber, a few rings of onion, and several
chunks of tomato; Tim shared with Kriss (Ken, Kriss, Judy, and
Deb T thought it serviceably good, Tim not a salad eater);
meanwhile, the New England clam chowder enticed Chay (side order)
and Don—both thought it very good and chunky.
A half-dozen choices comprised a short dessert list, a range from which
most Americans would find a favorite. Tonight included:
--->chocolate
mousse cake (yup, Don, good enough)
--->carrot
cake (Kriss, excellent cake; Ken, good enough)
--->Key
lime pie (Deb T, good enough; her first choice was ordered but
then announced to be sold out)
--->Chay
sipped Sambuca, and Tim his Frangelica
A-hemmm… Judy resisted dessert.
A-hemmm… Judy said she was too full. Everyone kinda gasped.
Notable by absence was Deb Karnes, who had traveled back to see
Mom. We missed ya, Deb, and we still tried to have the waiter
give you the check.
The drink portion included a Tilia 2011 Malbec, a Hardys Nottage
Hill 2008 Shiraz, a glass of white, and two diet sodas.
Despite a lack of glowing comments, we found enough quality to
come back again, either inside or outside.
Which leads to ambience.
We could have sat inside this cavern of a building, a steel
fabricating type from a century ago, a thirty foot tall main
structure with a peak ridge rise of another fifteen feet, with
enormous windows on the sides and the peak with another set of
windows that allowed the fading August evening sunlight to stream
in against the interior brick walls, hardwood floor, and the dark
wood of the bar and lounge and tables. Industrial piping marked
the air vents, geometrically snaking high in the ceiling, and it
truly is a visual treat. Unfortunately, we walked through and
past it all to our table.
A ten foot wide concrete deck fronts Steel House along the
Rondout Creek but nestling in one corner is a cutout, a 30x30
area that holds an outside bar on the back wall, three long
tables, each with eight chairs, with a south wall that serves as
bar seating and wind block, which this evening blocked a ten mph
breeze wafting up the creek from the Hudson. This cutout was
covered with a sloping canvas, in which case a light rain would
be no problem.
So, four on one side, three on the other on a long table
surprisingly was quite comfortable for talking. Even more
surprising, the noise level was muffled enough, even with the
deck’s large floor fan whirling away, so that conversation
was easily heard the length of the table when we wanted (well,
perhaps, Tim, sitting closest by, was affected).
And, a few dozen ships, boats, and more passed by, creating a
moving background that was fun to note and fantasize about,
especially the large cabin cruiser moored along side of the deck
for an hour or so.
Warm August air, gently lapping waves, reflections of lights made
sharper with the growing dusk, pleased diners in their own worlds
enjoying the same setting as us made for a seductively pleasant
night that is easy to think commonplace. (OK, the Maine people
had just had a bunch of these evenings!)
Our table was a hardwood table, linen-covered, set with appetizer
plates and a napkin-wrapped setting of a knife and two forks.
Chairs were sturdy wood with a comfortable cushion of a soft
vinyl.
Service was a comfortably
& competently casual experience. Ben was dressed in black,
friendly, good-humored, and apt to please—a nice fit for the
night. A loaf of cheddar-topped biscuit bread promptly appeared,
along with lemon-slice-rimmed glasses of water, which were
regularly filled by another of the waitstaff. Pacing was on
target, perhaps a tad quick (imagine DP8 saying that), with ample
time between ordering-salads-entrée delivery. The only hitch may
have been a long-ish gap before dessert. Still, we were out the
building just under the two hour mark, almost average. Ben
promptly took care of Tim’s cold entrée, filled Ken’s
coffee mug regularly, chatted about returning to Siena, work in
Woodstock – just enough to be a person but not so long to
affect service. Thanks, Ben, for an enjoyable evening and being a
credit to Steel House.
The bill came to $92 per couple – a low-average-ish bill,
helped with entrée accompanied by salad.
All in all, many average-good elements, with no weak spots, and
lots of riverside scenery made for a pleasant experience. On the
way out, we realized the glow across the Hudson was the Dutchess
County Fair.
The pre-session started at the Teators, on a
warm-ish late afternoon that allowed for deck-sitting. A bottle
of Picpoul and cab sauvignon accompanied a lone beer and a mini
white zin. A tray of five veggies lined up with a cracker and
chip basket waiting for a spread of chicken liver pate, tapenade,
chutney, or tuna salad, with a chunk of sharp cheddar or Monterey
jack offering one more option. If one were not careful, a fly
might have been added.
The only blot was the absence of Deb K, who we hope to see in a
couple of weeks.
Topics before, during, and after the ride included: the
Karneses’ Cayman vacation; the Adamses’ trips to the
Delaware beach with grandkids and Russia; the Monteverds’
trip to Maine; the soon-to-be grandparents and the condition of
the new mom-to-be and preparations in Saratoga; how our children
were doing; the Teator-Adams upcoming trip to France; the
upcoming Monteverd trip to Florida and effect of grandchild; the
Delaware County Fair; prostate cancer and treatment (see below);
breast cancer and family history (see below); fickleness of life;
boating experience; Ken’s dwindling days and lack of
replacement; sympathy for Chay (retirement); local police blotter
& and helicopter marijuana monitoring; recent day trips;
Tim’s upcoming procedure; dogs and cats; “it’s a
small world” and meeting local people in faraway places;
meeting Cairo people at Steel House; how much we are sounding
like old people (conversation topics); the upcoming wine-tasting;
and a bunch more.
The Teators had given a couple of clues
about location. Don had advised about the hour ride (could be a
trick) and Deb let slip about being on the water, which then led
to rampant speculation. After not crossing the RVW but instead
taking the Thruway, speculation in the Teator car kept guessing
until, after about ten guesses, Ken exactly pinpointed our
destination as we pulled into the parking lot.
Oh, yeah, the line of the night, ... Nice touch, Ken!