RPM Steak: Started from the bottom now we here!
So, we stepped out of the grime and gristle that characterizes Chicago (and our social lives) and into the glamour and glitterati of RPM Steak. I was preceded by the newly-nuptialed Zee German and the always-punctual Mr. Cizzle. Needless to say, I was proceeded by the newly-betrothed Mr. Jonathan (which I believe was the name of the bad guy in Lethal Weapon 2). The bar area was crowded and it was difficult to get a drink. Once I got the bartender’s attention, I ordered a rye on the rocks but they did not have any of my brands. I asked for a recommendation from the bartender, “we got something new, it’s from the same brewmaster as Wild Turkey, you’ll love it!” Worth noting I was wearing my finest suit at the time and yet still I could not hide my pedestrian fandom of Wild Turkey.
They texted me when our table was ready, which was promptly at 8:00 PM, and we were given a nice four top in the bosom of the restaurant.
Our waiter did a nice job, he promptly provided us with additional cocktails and the wine list. When the sommelier came over, I requested “a nice full-bodied wine with a smooth finish in the $100-$200 range.” I was prompty informed that they do not have bottles of wine in that range. I was eventually led up-market to a Chateau Cantemerle that had a vintage sometime in my high school years. (Before I’m given the Holinger award for wine exorbitance, It’s worth noting that inexplicably we were “only” charged $345 for two bottles of it). It was indeed full bodied, smooth and spectacular. A real testament to the expertise of the French in this area.
It is worth noting that when we were nearly done with the first bottle, the sommelier came back to refill the glasses. He refilled all of them and Cizzle took a very small sip and the sommelier again refilled his glass. Mr. Jonathan chastised him for this, pointing out that it had obviously been done to encourage another quick order. I didn’t hear exactly what he said, but it sounded like he called the sommelier a “bow-tie clad charletan.” Then Mr. Jonathan did this to the sommelier (starts at about 1:10). Unfortunately, I only have this video of Charles Bronson doing it.
The appetizers were well received. The thick cut bacon was literally bacon butter, the steak tartare was tasty and my favorite was the shrimp that was wrapped in a light rice wrap along with a small asparagus stalk. A nice presentation and a tasty treat. Tip top.
The steaks themselves were merely ok. I ordered a 16 oz. bone-in filet. I was shocked that fresh on the heels of President Obama’s visit the night before, they still had filets left. Speaking of that, here is some excellent footage of President Obama just prior to his visit to RPM Steak.
I asked for it medium rare, it came medium rare so that was good. However, more marbling than should be in a bone-in filet. Also, a lack of salt or seasoning failed to hide the pedestrian nature of the filet I was served. As sides, I went pretty much down the fairway with asparagus and fries, both of which were scarfed down with almost reckless abandon.
The meal itself was a nice intimate affair with just four of us. The discussion while enjoying the steaks was scintillating. Topics included Obama’s meal the night before, exorbitant wedding bar bills, discerning the attitude of strangers from the table company they keep, proper engagement photography, equipment necessary to maintain temperature control in apartments and local city issues.
I totally butchered the dessert ordering. My choices illustrated the naivete of someone who was recently invited to join a prominent steak club and decides to throw a hail mary in the fourth quarter when I was up by a touchdown and could simply kneel it out. It’s worth noting they didn’t have carrot cake or key lime pie on the menu. I ordered a dish that was described as an assortment of berries, whip cream and ice cream and another dish that was described as a lemon cake. The berry dish was literally served in some kind of tall pint glass and had all these things mixed together. I might as well have ordered a milk shake with four straws. The lemon cake was brought to the table and lit on fire by the waiter. It tasted like you might expect – like licking a wood floor that has been heavily coated with lemon pledge and then lit on fire briefly. It was given to us with some nice long skinny hobbit-pipe-looking spoons. Zee German and Mr. Jonathan enjoyed these spoons immensely.
Here is another video of Zee German and Mr. Jonathan from a previous encounter. Mr. Jonathan and Zee German go swimming together.
The bill was on the expensive side. Not surprising considering I splurged on wine a bit and the hype of the place. How many times will we have a dinner where half the attendees were engaged and/or married since the last steak night? Probably not too many. Or as Joe Pesci said in Casino, “So I paid top dollar, who gives a shit.”
To borrow the words of Jackie Chiles, RPM Steak was “restful, resplendent, magnificent.” In total, was RPM Steak great? Most definitely. Did it live up to the hype? Eh.
Bar: 8/10
Waiter: 9/10
Apps: 10/10
Wine & Sommelier: 8/10
Steaks: 6/10
Dessert: 4/10
Aesthetic environment: 10/10
Filed under: General
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This was by far the most anticipated steak night of the year….WECIII’s chance to shine. Never one to fail to impress, he delivered with the most sought after reservation in Chicago, RPM Steakhouse.
RPM however, has to earn its spot amongst the best steakhouses in Chicago and this first go left a lot to be desired.
The place looks and feels like a more spruced up Wildfire (which is not a bad thing) with more people who just hang out at the bar because it’s the place to be. The crowd resembled those who would be planning to head to Studio Paris after, which is to be expected.
The food – really weak. Apps were fine (steak tartare was great). Steaks were ok (I had the cap which was fine but a couple of notches below Bavettes and a mile below Maestros, sides mediocre and desert was without a doubt the worst in the city. They poured flammable liquid on an ice cream desert cake then served it to us on fire, and the top covered in flammable liquid was the best part.
Wine – without a doubt the sleaziest thing i ever saw a sommelier do to a $200 bottle of wine. we ordered cocktails at the table and bill ordered a bottle at the same time. He poured us all full glasses, we clinked and he came back to pour the rest of the bottle in all of our glasses. I called him out on this and his response was so smug – it sets the theme for the service.
Overall – a great place for eye candy and playing the games of eastern european or schamburg and is that guy itching his nose or did he just come back from the bathroom. Food has potential but sides and dessert major negatives. Given this is the same family that gave the world the gem that is Wildfire, those mistakes can not be forgiven. Service, well if you spend $200 a bottle, it’s not to be treated like a bottle of greygoose at Studio with a 2 bottle minimum but I can see how that’s the way things are going these days.
Overall – 7. Better than Del Frisco’s when it opened but a long way to go to even consider being in the same league as the other Chicago titans.
RPM Steak may be the most sought after reservation in the city right now. When The Mayor Bill Conway announced the location of October’s steak night, we were all beaming with anticipation and excitement. I thought we might be adding a new “Bavette’s” to the mix. Well Bavette’s it was not. I’m not even sure it was its cousin Wildfire.
Let’s begin with the bar area. It was crowded with every charlatan in River North. That was expected so no points lost there. Zee German and I commented on how much of a space waster the bar was. The area behind the bar was bigger than the area for customers. The bar tender also tried to take my order in conjunction was a second random guy who had popped into the space as I was ordering. I guess he thought we were together b/c he gave us one tab. As we were fixing that, he brought me a second drink, which was for the other guy. When I informed him of his mistake, he got a little ‘tude. That’s a great way to earn a 5% tip on expensive brown liquor. Bar conversation was lively. Hans and I had a discussion on which of the four overly done-up Russian girls from Wheeling in the booth next to us was the most labor intensive as a girlfriend. I went with the blown out hair and egregious fake eyelashes. Hans went with the strong-jawed one with the clown makeup. We agreed to disagree. On to the table!
Not sure whose scrotum Bill had to massage for the table, but we were seated right in the belly of the beast, right in the action, right in the space where tourists get overcharged for wine. I wasn’t around for the Chicago Chop House incident but I’d have to imagine this could go down as the sommelier incident. Apparently there are no bottles on the menu less than $200. But let me tell you what $200 gets you because this may change your mind as to the absurdity of it all. First of all, you get your wine filled after every sip. One has to be a savage, a penny knave, a vagrant to drink anything nearing the bottom half of the glass. I prefer to not even be able to tip the wine glass without it pouring out on the table. GIVE ME A STRAW DAMMIT! Second, and no less important, you get some wank sommelier peering down his nose at you, with comments to match. Not a good start to the dinner but we’ve only just begun!
Appetizers. Bacon. Thick cut. It was good. But can anyone screw up bacon? You can’t judge a man on bacon alone. Bacon is assumed. Bacon is expected. Bacon is woven into the very fibers of our being. You have string theory. I have bacon theory. The crispy shrimp was crispy…..and shrimpy. Nothing to see here. I’ll give the tartare its due. It was certainly way above average. On to the steaks!
Being that it was already turning into an expensive night with the wine, I went for the 28 day dry-aged 22 oz bone-in Kansas City cut for a mere $74. They do have wet and dry aged options. They actually have a ton of options. They’re certainly not lacking in the different cuts of meat department. But what they do lack is a steak that can compare to no less than 15 other steak houses in the city. I think they need some more time on the aging, flavor, and they need to find their groove on the searing. A medium rare steak should still have a well seared, almost crispy outside. I could have cooked this steak better on my grill at home. Rarely do I fail to finish a steak. This one gave me no reason to. Sides were asparagus (average) and fries (wonderful). On to the desserts!
I’m still waiting for RPM to call me and let me know if they found my chipped tooth from the flaming lemon cement cake we ordered. We also had something in a tall champagne glass that by sharing tested the boundaries of our manhood.
For the third steak night in a row, the bill ended up over $200 per person. I’m not sure if this is a trend, or if we’re over-ordering, or over drinking, or all of the above? I’d have to say Chicago Chop House has to be coming back down to earth price-wise after the run we’ve had. As with any steak night, we could be eating burgers for all I care. It’s the company that means the most to me, and this evening did not disappoint. The food left much to be desired. RPM Steak could use a little Good to Great makeover. Jim Collins says even a bad company can turn into a good one. RPM has nowhere to go but up. Get your shit together. Or don’t. Whatever. There are plenty of people with bad taste to keep your dream of a decent restaurant alive.
6/10, and that’s a gift.
There is little left to say about RPM Steak after these fine reviews by the eloquent group I was privileged to spend an evening with this past Thursday night. The saying goes if you don’t have anything good to say then say nothing at all. Well in RPM Steak’s case, fuck that. I will be the negative Nancy on this train and let the world know through the vast readership of this blog that I would rather go to Petterino’s than give the Rancic’s another dime of my hard earned money. From the minute I strolled into the overly crowded, testosterone and perfume filled bar I knew it was going to be a struggle of good versus evil. Evil being anyone from the suburbs or guys with expense accounts to burn. A quick detour to the mens room only reinforced my concerns of blatent over compensation by the Rancic’s as the walls were adorned with their relatively unattractive mugshots. I am convinced Julianna, however you spell it, is actually a praying mantis. Upon returning the bartender was in a full blown attempt to piss off The Cizzle who has a hair trigger when faced with incompetence. After some debate he was able to pour me a High West Double Rye. It soothed my anger and opened up the debate of whether the girl who looked like Quagmire would be a bigger pain in the ass than the girl who applies her make up using a 12 gauge shotgun. The Mayor arrived shortly thereafter and was confronted by the same incompetence, but as all politicians do, persevered and saved face. Mr Jonathon, my swim partner, arrived right on time if you currently have your swatch set to GST (Glick Standard Time – approximately an hour after you are scheduled to be someplace).
I am still concerned that the Mayor had to commit a felony or at least dish out a handful of handies to the overly perfumed male front desk staff to procure our table. It was in the center of the octagon they call a dining room. We have a table of working women in this corner and a table of douche bags from Dallas in for a conference in that corner. To our backs a pair of gloriously made up women with many medical advancements. It was like going to a sports bar and watching 3 games at once, mind was blown.
The apps were ordered in due time, and truthfully this is the apex of the evening. After the steak tartare and the bacon it was a down hill slide. The shrimp were great and tasted exactly like something you can get at every asian restaurant. The wine debacle commenced as noted and I sat back in awe of our sommelier. Truly astonishing someone like this exists in the world and hasn’t been beaten to a pulp by his own family members.
I decided to go for a steak that comes along with a title of its own. “The Duke”. Who can pass that up? Described as a ribeye filet, I found it to be perfectly decent and cooked to a nice medium rare. The sear was good and the meat was reddish pink. The issue was it was devoid of flavor. Seasoning with a toss of salt and pepper would have been a nice touch. The sides were fine, nothing of merit. The second bottle of wine was poured before the first was finished. I did not see a decanter anywhere, which also like the salt and pepper would have been a nice touch when spending a month’s rent in some cities for a bottle of wine.
Dessert was one part mad science gone wrong and one part McDonalds fruit parfait. I did thoroughly enjoy the opium pipe spoon as the photograph suggests. Fortunately the company was stellar and conversation engaging. I get the feeling that with RPM Steak the ownership decided everything had to be glitz and glamour with the hope that it would cover up for what is really sub standard food given the price point. Chicago is literally packed with incredible steak houses, so it was a bold move to enter the fray with clearly no experience or apparent ability. Perhaps the pseudo celebrity of the place will keep it afloat long enough to shed the training wheels and learn how to ride, but only time will tell.
Drinks at Siena tavern after dinner was a pleasant night cap to what was a very good October night out despite the shortcomings of RPM Steak.
GST (Glick Standard Time), priceless. I can’t believe we have not used that before. Sounds like this was a good month to miss.