I've declared Keens the fertile-making steak house. I'd always considered
myself more of a Luger (not Lugers, dammit, no extra Ss, just like it's not
Barnes & Nobles either) girl, and now I know why. James's college pal, Pat,
the recent transplant, got in his head that Luger was the place to impress,
the spot to take the ladies (nevermind that he didn't have a lady, and the
few dates he eventually scored were with a vegetarian).
Then another old college buddy that James isn't fond of took Pat to
Keens and that's when all hell broke loose. Keens took the place of Luger in
his mind as the chicks-dig-it restaurant (I don't know where he got the idea
girls are nuts for meat and potatoes from in the first place). His fate was
sealed when he took a mousey, classic meat and potatoes gal/coworker out to
Keens. Soon after, we don't know if it was actually that night, he knocked
There might be something to all this. I recall a beef council commercial
where the old stodgy guys get scared because their steakhouse has been
overrun by women, one very pregnant. What, is iron the latest aphrodisiac?
Beef might be what's for dinner, but you'd better think twice about what
you're going to get for dessert.