My waiter at Uncle Jack's was like a combination of Christopher Walken, Jack Nicholson after he goes insane in The Shining and a human bag of cocaine. His wide-eyed, ravenous gaze and persona of an impending bloodbath made for a terrifying experience as he recited the list of specials like someone that just drank the mercury out of a thermometer. He made everyone at the table amused and uncomfortable, but the service was quite good.
I ordered the gorgeous hunk of carnage pictured above – a 35 day dry aged ribeye. Dry aging is when God sits down at a table and blows on a piece of meat until it's time to be served. It tasted exactly like it looks. It's spotlit because the flash setting on my camera is set to "blindness".
Already filled to the brim with chewed meat, I felt like it would be a smart idea to order a slice of pecan pie. I ate it while drinking a Maker's Mark manhattan, and upon completion went brain dead and lost the ability to see and hear. For the rest of the night the extent of my communicating was limited to slow, circular movements of my bottom jaw – like a cow with a mouthful of grass. Totally worth it.
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