We haven't been there in years, but it was much as we remembered - dark, noisy and crowded. Not a place to take parents with vision or hearing problems, but that's okay. Jonathan could not find me when he got to the place because it was so dark.
The food was lovely. We started with a frisee salad with confit of duck. I've been wanting to try duck confit - oh, so good. Crispy skin, nice *duck* taste and not very greasy at all. Then we had steaks and this caused a problem. I like my steaks well-done. It's a texture thing. Underdone steaks feel really awful in my mouth. What I do when I go to a steakhouse is ask which of their steaks they'd recommend for someone with that sort of taste. It's a common one in the Jewish community, so a kosher steakhouse should know this. And I get good advice, and, often, perfectly done meat. Not always, of course, so I send it back. I hate doing this because it often results in cremated meat.
This time, I was advised to get the rib-eye steak, so I did. And then, when it's served, the waiter says it's "medium well." I did NOT ask for medium well, I asked for "well" - there is a difference. I don't want shoe leather, and I don't mind a touch of pink, but if I could see that much pink in that dim light, it was too much for me. So, I sent it back. And there was Jonathan enjoying his steak au poivre, done perfectly medium (to his taste), and I'm waiting and waiting. Even when I'm assured it's already finished, we're still waiting. And, you know. 8:00 curtain.
It's done...okay when I do get it. It's dry where both I and the chef cut it to make sure it was done, and a tad too pink in other places, but all in all, it's fine. I believe that if our initial server had written down the correct temperature, I would not have had that problem.
On the other hand, we had a half bottle of a NICE bordeaux, and it went perfectly with both pieces of meat. And the fries were really good, as was the final cup of coffee in lieu of dessert. And we made the theater in plenty of time.
Our seats were in the balcony, in the front row. No leg room for Jonathan. This turned out to be a problem, made worse because he's been having foot cramps (we need bananas.) Twice he had to stand up. The second time, he went to the aisle and began walking, and the ushers saw him.
They did a *very* kind thing. They moved us to a lower level under the balcony, which was empty because the balcony did partially obstruct the upper level of the Great Portcullis, but also to a row where the arm on the aisle could go up. It was so much more comfortable that it was worth losing a bit of view (and the charming ladies from Australia who were next to us in the balcony.) I can't say how much we appreciated this.
(Usher picking up Jonathan's backpack, "What's in this?"
Me, gathering coats and my bags, "Rocks.")
As for the musical itself - the first half was full of these production numbers - I think to make sure we knew there was an actual female character in the Lady of the Lake. And they dragged a fair bit, especially the scene in Camelot. However, once they got back into the "plot", such as it was, it just picked up. They found the funny.
And when, in the second half, the Lady had her big song, it was wonderful and funny and appropriate. There were production numbers, for that matter, in the second half, but somehow, they fit. (Yeah, yeah, I loved the one with Lancelot and Herbert and the codpieces, but I also loved Clay Aiken's about how much a Broadway show needs Jews.)
We're now discussing which show we might want to see again, and we're coming up with the new Aaron Sorkin.