Charlie Palmer Steak: You Thought I Forgot?

I have said many times I like to keep my blogging positive, but sometimes the truth must be told, particularly when it serves the public good. I last dined at Charlie Palmer Steak in D.C. about nine months ago, but I can assure you the horror has not faded. In fact, I walk past Charlie Palmer Steak on my way to work most mornings and every time I pass, I must relive the whole ordeal again in my head, forcing me to grumble to myself like a crazy street person all the way home.

The first thing you must know about CPS is that it is a moderately expensive restaurant. Not so expensive that only a special ocassion warrants a trip, but enough that the service should be good. As DCist has noted, they are not known for their stellar service, but it should be decent. The second thing to know is that its top selling points are its view and location, just on the corner of the Capitol grounds. Power Spot, yes. Michelin five-star, no.

I happened to be there along with my wife and inlaws. Our steaks came out overcooked in relation to our medium rare requests and The Lovely S pointed this out. The server took them back. The server reappeared. Oddly enough, caring the same steaks. How about that? She was very nice and quite competent, so I felt bad for her that someone in the back had sent her out to debate our diner with us. She didn't cook them after all. She informed us that CPS defines medium as others define well, rare as others define medium, and so on. Now, I don't own the restaurant, so if Chef Voltaggio wants to use a different definition than the rest of the civilized world, that's up to him, but he since he neither pays for nor consumes the meal, the restaurant might want to inform diners about that ahead of time. We sent them back again. The server took them back, brought them out again prentending they were rarer than before, and re-served them. We just gave up and ate. It was okay. I am not one to make a scene, though I probably should have come up with some tactful way of insisting, just on principle. I dind't think the time was right with the in-laws there and it certainly is poor form to take one's frustrations out on the server, but needless to say I won't be back.

That is a shame, because restaurant aside, the bar is quite nice and none of this is the bartenders fault, is it? Nonetheless, it is he who suffers. Such is life. If you want a good steak in D.C., I recommend Les Halles. Good frittes and Stella on tap.