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Black Angus Steakhouse

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Ever wake up Sunday morning with the "steak starvies"? I'm sure you have. Abby and I woke up one Sunday morning in October and felt a particularly sharp craving for some of that true steak, the kind a real cattleman would fix over a desert wood fire, under a full coyote moon, sitting under a canopy of desert pricklies. Luckily for us, down the freeway from our church proudly stood a steakhouse made entirely out of wood (remember those?) like it could've been erected in the Old West by a herd of cattlemen. Don't forget- Hayward is an Old West Town in it's own right and tucked next to the H&R Block, a simple memorial to heavenly steaks and dusty cattlemen still stands. Abby and I got there early and eager, so we had to wait a few minutes. When the doors swung open at 11a.m., we swaggered in and were promptly seated.

We opened up our slippery menus (usually a good indicator of the juiciness of the steaks, trust me) and took a gander at the selections. I already knew what I was getting. I had to order a 16oz. cut of the Ribeye Steak. Medium Rare. Typically, I'd order up a Pittsburgh Rare cut of steak, but I've been having some health problems with my colon and my doc advised me to "Give up red meat or there would be hell to pay". I think Medium Rare instead of Pittsburgh Rare is a good enough step in the right direction. I only bring this up because I think it's proof that I would know what a good steak is having eaten enough to be officially prohibited lol. Along with the steak came a choice of two sides. I ordered the Traditional Baked Potato and Steak Soup. The missus ordered the Cobb Salad, which I wasn't expecting since we came in hungry for slabs of cow, but hey, we are all entitled to a change of heart I suppose. We handed the menus over to our delightful waitress who, after placing our order, walked back with a warm round loaf of native grain bread seeded with what looked and tasted like barley. This wasn't my first rodeo. I knew the deceptive friendliness of that loaf. I've made the mistake before of filling up on the delicious and complementary bread so much so I couldn't finish my steak. That wasn't going to happen this time, I vowed… as I mashed another buttered hunk into my mouth.

The soup came out first. A delightful little stew of barley, kidney beans, and cubes of beef. The aroma alone took me back to a campfire dinner I had with my family as a kid out on outskirts of Vista, California, putting cans of Campbell's Chunky directly on the coals to heat up. I had a few spoonfuls of the slurry before I had a thought: it tasted EXACTLY like Campbell's Chunky, just like my dad used to make on those camping trips back in the day! I believe that taste can be a powerful channel for nostalgia and Black Angus's Steak Soup was a slow flood of boyhood memories.

Though I knew I had a massive platter of steak on the way, I basically inhaled that stew in 2 minutes flat, which is remarkable now that I think of it considering it seemed like the recipe called for 8 ounces of everything in the kitchen roughly blended together with a stick of butter throw in. It was not light. At this point, I was seriously doubting that I could manage to finish a 16 oz'er along with potato. As I glanced around nervously for the waitress touting my impending meal, my eyes landed on a television screen hung above our booth; an infomercial for the Copper Chef was on! In fact, it was playing on all the TVs hung on walls of Black Angus! Imagine that… at a steakhouse, watching the Copper Chef fry up steaks, hot dogs, corn on the cobs, and potatoes au gratin in the same pan. Actually, a few minutes of watching Copper Chef was all I needed to regain my "zeal for the meal". Just as though my stomach had sent out a specific frequency only audible by experienced waitstaff, our server appeared around the corner with our plates followed by an older lady that seemed like the owner of the establishment.

Abby was looking dumbfounded at the size of her Cobb Salad. I love gazing across the table and seeing Abby's face light up like that. It happened at Romano's Macaroni Grille, and it happened at the Nordstrom Cafe. Just typing this part makes my heart swell :' >. This is why you should take your lady to decent restaurants, fellas. I looked down at my own plate with tantamount dumbfoundedness. The ribeye had a beautiful cross-hatch char on it and the potato was split in the middle and in it burbled butter and sour cream. The presentation was incredible. Turns out, the older lady that looked like she was the owner was one of the most special members of the staff: she came out from the back of the Black Angus whenever someone ordered the 16 oz rib to personally deliver it. She took a special silverware setting out from her back pocket and placed the knife in my right hand, the fork in my left hand, and unrolled the napkin onto my lap. "Sir, would you mind slicing into your steak to confirm the doneness for me?", she said. Just wow. This had never happened to me at a Black Angus before. I cut into my steak (with some difficulty admittedly, the knife was really not very sharp I think) and it indeed was cooked to a perfect Medium Rare. She nodded and a proud smile broke discreetly onto her face. "Enjoy you steak sir, and madame, I hope you enjoy your Cobb Salad."

Everything after that was a blur. Bite after bite went into my mouth and I chewed every piece as if I was gnawing through a rope that bound me to a sinking ship. I ordered extra butter upon extra butter and drowned my potato in it. Steakhouses probably have access to really good butter, now that I think of it. I couldn't recall now, but it seemed that Abby was grimacing at me through the haze. She says now that she was smiling, so maybe I am just projecting, but I was unashamedly just devouring my meal like a nasty scoundrel. To tell you the truth, I don't quite remember the taste of the steak. I knew it must have tasted good, since I was tearing it to bits, but I honestly was more spurred on by the act of chewing the meat. "Steak Starvies" really means "I am starving for steak". I just remember my vision had dimmed to a tunnel that framed everything with a lurid glow. I should wrap this review up here actually, I'm sorry it's so long! I'm getting hungry again ahaha!! Anyway, if you're ever looking for a traditional American Western restaurant for the domesticated cowboy within, hop on your horse (or get in your car) and mosey on over to the Hayward Black Angus where they'll treat you right and ask you if they're doing a good job. It's right off the freeway! Oh, and I finished the steak and potato :)

Abby��s take: you know it’s going to be a good Sunday when the day begins at Black Anus. Unfortunately, they do not yet have a country breakfast menu, but they do open at 11am ! Perhaps true steakmen don’t see a need for labels when it comes to steak, unlike us city people. To the true steakman, steak is steak no matter the hour or gender. It seemed we were not the only patrons who wanted to begin Sunday in the atmospheric American darkness of a high-end ranch house. A fine way to escape the fast paced city life, slow down and take some notes from the locals! It really is a different way of life over at the steakhouse... I myself have always dreamt of country living. Blame it on my freckles, or my collection of Kenny Chesney fan fiction, I have always wondered if I was meant for the farm.

I ordered the vegetable Cobb, curious to try a “Country” take on a “City” classic. It was delectable! The cuisine equivalent of the musical masterpiece “Old Town Road”. I’m hoping Kenny Chesney is able to hop on that horse as well, perhaps accompanied with the always masterful Marshall Mathers (M&M). Those two on a musical horse would be quite the sight and sound!

The hubby, perhaps in an attempt to impress the locals, ordered a steak, medium rare, with no cityman dizzle-dazzle-add ons or subtractions. I for one, was impressed with his restraint, and took the moment to reflect. How accustomed have we city people become, to custom orders - “no tomatoes, no gluton” even picking and choosing particular Kenny Chesney songs to purchase from the ITune store, instead of purchasing the whole album. While I so enjoyed the cob salad remainders we took home, this lesson may have been my most valuable “takeaway”.

Local tip: “No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problems” is a great starter album for the Kenny Chesney novice.

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On The Border Mexican Grill & Cantina

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Abby's take: !!!Arriba!!! Our experience on the night of Saturday was "muy sympatico" as they say ... you may be wondering if you need a background in Spanish language lessons to dine here but you do not! We were surprised to find that nearly everything, save for the "entrada" (entrance) sign was " en ingles"!

Despite the convenience of english speaking servers, menus etc, everything else was "muy authentico". Back in 1996 when the hubby and I were newly weds, we bravely went to Cancún, and let me tell you, there are not many spots more authentico than the fine dining at our Marriot Cancún Resort Cantina, and our dining experience at On The Border Mexican Grill and Cantina dbrought us back to those adventurous days and luxurious nights, enjoying Coronas and "chips y salsa" on the beach.

I enjoyed a "Border Bowl", which was muy deliciouso y fresca, and the hubby enjoyed a delicious plate of "enchiladas", and both paired extremely well with the deliciouso grande chips and salsa.

Lastly, the interior decor was wonderful, and I noticed some rustic crosses on the wall, which in these days of satanic symbology was a welcome change of pace... nice to know we are dining in a God fearing establishment especially so close to Easter. Muy gracias, On the Border Mexican Grill And Cantona!!!

Jeff's take: Jeff is actually muy occupado with his current business venture, spending hours upon hours typing away on his PC... according to him this doesn't leave much time for yelp, but I can assure, his smile digging in to his "enchiladas" said "muchas satisfactados!!"

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Nordstrom’s Marketplace Café

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Jeff's take:

After an exhaustive journey through the Stoneridge Mall, my eyelids began to feel heavy. We usually do all our shopping online to avoid the "hustling bustle" of real live commerce, but today we were feeling adventurous! After spending a not insignificant amount of time at the Lego Store and the Brookstone, we were both ready for a pick-me-up: a hot cup of boiling java. We saw that there was a café on the premises, so we promptly made our way through the masses and lo, at the end of our trek (and rope, really), bathed in a golden light, was the Nördström Café.

Thank goodness! No line at the register. With the air of a psychic, the lady at the counter cheerfully piped, "Let me guess! Two coffees?" Bless her. I wish I had gotten her name. We plop down on some comfortable stool-height chairs (perfect size, because I am a taller man) and sit in a beaten, but anticipatory silence. Not 15 minutes goes by when a kindly waiter brings us our coffees along with a fully-stocked caddy of 3 kinds of sugar, powdered creamer, and other delightful accoutrements. Full service coffee. The aroma of the cup that sat in front of me wafted up and sent me in a heavenly bliss. I don't think I've smelled a cup of javo that enticing, and I've worked at Starbucks! Nevermind the smell- I picked up the cup, drank down a mouthful of the stuff, and melted into the chair. Does anybody else feel this way about Nördström's coffee? It's terrific! I could really tell that this was gourmet coffee. I think it was called Arabia, I can't recall right now. Anyways, after a few minutes, the Mrs. and I had caffeine coursing through our veins. We were ready to check out the shoes at the Aldo! We hulked out of there and barreled down the walkway to the Aldo. As far as caffeine goes, I think Nördstroöms has some really strong caffeine. All in all, I'm in awe at Nörstroms; If you work there and you were that lady or that waiter: THANK YOU FOR THE DELICIOUS JAVA!

Abby's take:What can I say, Im addicted to the pot, mr. Joe, java, the sailors kiss, the black sheep, or as the kids would say, molly. My usual haunt for a hit of lady c is Starbucks's, but when the line was understandably through the door, the mr. and I were forced to try something new. Enter Nordstrom cafe, a coffee shop, I believe of Scandinavian heritage. The Scandinavian touch of class was felt from the highend decor, to the wide selection of cheesecakes, or as the Swedes might say "cheese kaken". Now to the main affair, the coffee... it was as good as it gets, delicately roasted beans, the aroma, that sirens call, truly offering Starbucks's some worthy competition!! I enjoyed an expertly prepared "énorme" (i believe this is Nordstrom cafe's, heretofore referenced as NC, Euro size version of Starbucks's Italian "venti") mocha. Fun fact: due to Starbucks's sizing, many patrons wrongly assume Starbucks's is of Italian descent, but in fact Starbucks's is from Seattle! If you would like a true taste of Italian "café" may I recommend the coffee/dessert menu at Romano's macaroni grill?

Local tips: try a blend of the brown and white sugar, with a sprinkle of splenda for an interesting sweet "spin."

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Romano’s Macaroni Grill

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Abby: the mr. and I had a great date night here... true fine Italian dining ... I even said to the mr. "everything is so much better here than our go-to olive gardent, i wonder why!" and my question was promptly answered during a trip to the ladies room... over "authentico" Italian music, a narrator explained that "the ingredients are the difference" and what a difference it makes! I don't think I can ever go back to Olive Garden, my old favorite. What's more I now feel inspired to get in touch with my Italian heritage.. according to "23 and me" I am 3% "Italiano" myself ... maybe that's why I so enjoyed my meal!!

Jeff: ¡tre bien! Hello from Italy! Romano's elegant Macaroni grill was a slice of the old country coupled with a modern twist! Case in point: the traditionally iron cut pasta mingled with sustainably sourced ingredients! If you don't believe me, take trip into the beautiful restroom (itself an artifact from classic Florence) and listen to the recording of the lady splay out all the juicy specs of their modern culinary approach. I felt wreathed with 'autentico' Italian atmosphere and charm the entire evening and was even serenaded by the waitstaff singing happy birthday in Italian to the diners adjacent to our table! Magnifique! Highly recommended to those persons looking for adventure on a budget!