 RUTH’S CHRIS
Beef reigns here, but crabmeat
and veal are exemplary
By RON BECHTOL
Photography JANET ROGERS
The first thing that hits one at Ruth’s Chris (after dealing
with the valet parking) is the aroma: It’s all beef
and butter, and it’s fantastic.
Sensory evaluation number two: the noise level— It’s the comforting buzz of a well-oiled machine, just loud
enough to convey hospitality, not so loud as to make
carrying on a conversation across the table a chore. Oh,
maybe the lighting level verges on being too low, but that’s
really only a concern at ordering time. And the service is perfectly
calibrated.
Our very young waitress had a deft hand with wine pouring
(meaning she knew when to stop), she actually revealed the
prices for each of the recited specials and was just solicitous
enough — asking, for example, “As you’re sharing, would you
like extra warmed plates?” (We didn’t, but thanks for asking.)
The front of the house at Ruth’s Chris inspires confidence, and
that would make founder Ruth Fertel very proud.
Ruth was an amazing woman. From a one-restaurant start
in New Orleans, she created an empire by dint of hard work
and creativity; she was responsible for many recipes as well as
the design of the 1800-degree broiler ovens that “lock in the
corn-fed flavor” of the chain’s signature sizzling-in-butter
steaks. I met her and local partner, Lana Duke, several times
during her frequent visits to San Antonio and was charmed
anew on each occasion by her down-to-earth demeanor. She
would still be proud, I think, of much of the food, but she also
wouldn’t hesitate to call a spade a spade.
Dining Companion (in white knit with jet jewelry) and I were
both surprised to learn that the appetizer of veal osso buco
ravioli wasn’t new to the menu. “A lot of people think that, but
it’s been there a long time,” said the roving manager, who put
in his obligatory one-time appearance, then stayed away, just as
he should have. Though the saffron in the pasta was subtle
and the pasta itself on the edge of chewy, the stuffing and
sauce were superlative, and the garlic-strewn spinach played
perfect counterpoint.
Both the Alexander Valley chardonnay (by the glass) and a
subsequent bottle of 2005 Zenato Ripassa from Italy’s
Valpolicella region worked well with this chameleon-like dish.
The chardonnay, however, was a soul mate to the Crabtini.
Romaine “rabbit ears” garnished the colossal lump crab
served in a chilled martini glass. The glass’s contents, however,
were spectacular. Short of specimens scooped up myself from
the waters of Puget Sound, this was the best crab experienced
in years — and best left mostly alone, as Ruth’s does, by tossing
it in a very discreet amount of vinaigrette and bedding it on
a Creole remoulade you may choose to incorporate or not.
There was no choice about the dressing on a shared baby
arugula salad, thoughtfully split for us in the kitchen and served
on chilled plates. The dressing was neither warm nor very
bacony — just sweet and too abundant. The once-again-popular
iceberg wedge is another possibility, as is a Caesar and
Ruth’s Chop Salad, featuring three greens along with a cornucopia
of other ingredients.
I suspect Ruth would be pleased with the way the kitchen
is turning out one of its big-beef alternatives, the veal chop
with sweet and hot peppers. The pepper garnish may be a little
tart for most wines, but feel free to push it aside and concentrate
instead on the rich and satisfying flavor of the marinated
veal, carefully trimmed and perfectly cooked at just
below medium. A side of impeccably prepared Lyonnaise
potatoes with beautifully caramelized onions was spectacular
with the colossal chop.
 But in spite of lamb chops, grilled Portobello mushrooms
that smack of steak in their meaty richness, and the ahi tuna
stack that has pleased mightily in the past, one goes to Ruth’s
place for steak. The Prime ribeye wouldn’t have passed Ruth’s
muster. It was slightly overcooked for medium rare, (The bonein
Cowboy Ribeye might have been a better choice here.)
But it was large, meaning half went home in a classy
doggy bag, and it was much better cold the next day.
Reheated was the better part of an order of peas au gratin— but if anything, even better tasting in its well-seasoned
sauce and cheesy topping.
The Crescent City roots of Ruth’s Chris are most apparent
in appetizers such as barbecued shrimp and desserts on
the order of their Creole crème brûlée. Electing to continue
the indulgent tone of the evening, we went straight to the
chocolate chunk bread pudding — justifying the decision
by convincing ourselves that the remains of the robust
Ripassa would continue to work with the chocolate. And
they did. But on its own, the caramel-topped pudding, containing
both white and semi-sweet chocolate and chopped
pecans, was in need of little else but time to savor the experience
slowly
 Which is exactly the attitude one needs to assume chez
Ruth. You won’t be hurried by the waitstaff, so relax. And, oh,
one more thing: Ruth wasn’t a formal soul, but she always
looked swell. Some of you guys out there are letting your
female companions down in the dress-for-the-occasion (and
eating at Ruth’s is an occasion) department. I’m not suggesting
coat and tie; this is San Antonio, after all, and Ruth’s certainly
doesn’t require it. But a T-shirt and jeans don’t cut it either. Let’s
show the lady the respect she’s due. And if you go home with
a shirt or sweater smelling of beef and butter, what better way
to remember the evening?
RUTH’S CHRIS
7720 Jones Maltsberger
(210) 821-5051
1170 E. Commerce,
(210) 227-8847 |
