Last night the doors opened at Sacramento’s newest upscale chain restaurant, McCormick & Schmick’s.Â The Mrs. and I attended the gala,Â calling on her extensive social connections to get an invite and were a bit underwhelmed by the event.Â Now, I could spend many words commenting on the somewhat homogeneous crowd of lobbyists, NGO publicity folks, civic minded do-gooders and curious upper-crusters.Â I could write epic poems about how the besuited men and bejeweled women never reached into their pockets to tip the bar staffers who were serving them up complimentary beer and wine.Â I could discuss at length the old-fashioned decor and gorgeous lighting in the place that was horribly marred by local sports team logos on the chandeliers.Â But, I want to focus on three very specific points: music, food (or lack thereof) and boobs.
1: MUSIC:Â A very tasty piano trio licked out several tunes throughout the evening.Â Leaning on the bossa nova, they were subdued and professional.Â However, when I was introduced to the restaurant’s manager I asked him if the band would be performing more than just that night, would they be a regular fixture at the restaurant.Â He looked at me like I had a carp growing out of my head.Â Simply the idea of having live musicians perform at his establishment regularly, oh the horror!Â Look,Â a nice tasteful piano player or a classical guitar player or a moderately talendted zither player can really make an establishment unique and enjoyable.Â Yes, I know musicians cost a lot of money, but if you are chargingÂ $30 for yourÂ salmon plate,Â and still paying minimum wage to your dishwashers, you have no excuse.Â
2. FOOD (or lack thereof)-Â If you’re going to have a restaurant gala event, it might be a good idea to showcase your food.Â I’m just saying.Â The crowd of hundreds ravenously pounced on the pitifully small appetizer plates escorted around by the harried staff.Â Bite sized coconut shrimp, salmon on a cracker, prawns on toast, they all came and went so fast that we had no idea what was going on.Â After two hours we were completely starved and overboozed.Â Ok, I was overboozed; the wife’s on meds.Â A little more food would have been nice at this event, even a sample of entrees, or sides, or desserts or bread, or an olive on a toothpick.Â I usually don’t like feeling like a slobber-toothed jackal fighting for scraps with the rest of my pack for meager sustinence while at a gala grand opening.Â We had to go Zocalo to get a proper meal after the event.Â FYI, their chicken enchiladas in mole are incredible.
3. BOOBS: The cocktail waitresses got ’em, and they’re not afraid to show ’em.Â Honestly, to an extent that was comical, the cocktail ladies’ racks were large and in charge.Â I’m not complaining here, but rather commenting on the incongruity of torso-length plunging neck lines, hugely inflated funbags and industrial strength braziers at what is obstensibly a conservative fine dining establishment.Â It was, without a doubt, an absolute titty show.Â I guess if you can’t hook the new town with a delicate piece of halibut, try to wow them with meat puppets.