Bruni prefers steaks of the non-skirt variety

A foodie friend of mine tipped me off to something interesting that happened in the restaurant world recently. It may be an odd inclusion on the blog, but I thought it was good for a laugh on a Friday... The New York Times' openly gay food critic, Frank Bruni, recently paid a few visits to Robert's Steakhouse, a restaurant seated within the Penthouse Executive Club (a high-class stripjoint), and wrote a review of the eatery that focuses more on the discomfort of himself and his gay dining companions than the food. Here's a choice cut:

We sat down in a cocktail lounge at the front of the restaurant. A beautiful woman claimed the plush armchair opposite mine. She introduced herself. I wasn't sure I'd heard her name correctly. "Mahogany?" I said. "Yes," she purred. I was getting my bearings. "Mahogany," I asked, "do you know where you're going to?" She didn't miss a beat, noting the reference, summoning the singer, and moving on to another of the dreamgirl's hits. "I'm ... coming ... out!" she sang, waving her arms, wiggling her hips. Mahogany and I would get along just fine.

The idea of a bunch of gay men visiting a steakhouse in a strip club is funny enough -- but it's even funnier when one of them writes a review about the place that makes the front page of the Dining & Wine section (the first one-star review to ever be given the front page, by the way). The review is pretty funny, although it does make a little too much fun of the working girls for my tastes. Give it a read and see what you think. There was some fallout from the whole affair, but nothing that a good at-the-table neck massage and a "Buttery Nipple" wouldn't fix.