Johnny’s Downtown, Cleveland

The reason I was inspired to start this log of my dining experiences was because of my dinner last night at:

Johnny’s Downtown, Cleveland

Rocky went here several years ago, spoke of it highly and so I was interested in checking it out.

The ambiance is great. Wood paneled walls, high metropolitan loft ceilings, dark and rich colors. A great environment.

But I just couldn’t get excited about the menu. It looked like every menu I’ve run into in every restaurant I’ve been to across America.

It did have steak tartar. I love that dish and is rare to find. But I wasn’t quite in the mood for it last night. I started with the french onion soup. I hadn’t had it in a long time and wanted to be reminded of it again. Fortunately, it was exactly like every batch of french onion soup I ever had. So, mission accomplished.

Each entre came with one choice of salad. I was with my in-laws. My father-in-law is emotionally allergic to salad. So he just sat hovering over this plate full of untouchable greens. You know, it was the walnut, gorganzola with raspberry vinaigrette. It was good. But there were other salads on the menu and soups. Why couldn’t there have been an option. Or just don’t include the salad with dinner. I was actually expecting to buy my salad… I was looking forward to the Caesar.

I couldn’t make up my mind on the entre so I had the server choose. He went with:
Long Bone Veal Chop – Pounded & Breaded Chop Sautéed in Extra Virgin Olive Oil Topped with Tomato Concasse, Arugula & Aged Balsamic –  42.95.

I thought it was interesting that he chose the most expensive dish on the menu. He did say that they are known for their veal. So… whatever.

But this veal was the most unremarkable veal I can recall. Veal is not usually my dish of choice. Just because I hate imagining all those baby cows dying for my love of tender meat. The sad part was that it wasn’t particularly tender. It was good, no doubt. But it clearly was not exciting and I could have used a real steak knife as this baby cow must have had some early childhood stress. I could feel it as I struggle to cut through his little breaded chop.

I could have stuffed in some dessert. But nothing was so seductive as to force me to walk out ready to explode… a condition I am more than will to take on for the good of a delicious dessert. My wife and kid made some sugar cookies that sounded more interesting to me than these offerings.

For four people the bill came to about $315 with the tip.

The other thing was that the server was good. But he wasn’t special. I am a messy eater. I could have used a crumbing of my table cloth.

I had three Diet Cokes. Each empty glass sat in front of me as he brought me a new one. So, by the end of dinner I had four empty glasses hovering around me. It pointed out my drinking obsession and added to the bread crumbs scattered all over my section of the table cloth. Man I’m a pig.

I didn’t feel good enough for my server. I’m totally cool with elitist servers. They know the food of their restaurant well. But I felt that he misread me. I felt spoken down to even though, I must say, I was once a fine dining server, I eat out a lot. I wanted him to connect with me more. I wanted him to get me. I felt like he thought I was new to this scene. Ultimately, he was streamlined and efficient… which is good. But I also needed him more observant… empathetic.

Ultimately, it was fine. Nothing bad.

But definitely not interesting, in my judgment. I’ll keep looking.