Texas, Our Texas, All Hail The Mighty Steak
3130 Lemmon Ave.
Admit it, folks. Almost everyone that eats is a sucker for at least one or two chain restaurants. We won't judge you (though someone might in the comments...damn hippies). For us, one of these chains is the mighty Texas Land & Cattle. For starters, some of us are fifth and sixth generation Texans, so we eat all Texana--real or manufactured--up with a spoon. And Texas Land & Cattle is full of manufactured Texana. Taste of Texas Sampler? Yes, please. Texas-Sized Porterhouse? Sure, bring it on.
Honestly, Texas Land & Cattle is the only steakhouse in town we frequent with any regularity, mostly because we can't afford the other ones. We've never even been inside Bob's Steak & Chop House, for instance. Does it look like one of those fake library rooms in the Lodge? That's what we imagine, with the substitution of trophy wives for strippers.
Even the bread at Texas Land & Cattle is good. Usually we'll scarf down about two loaves of the stuff before our ladyfriend's rabbit food even hits the table. The steaks are not too shabby either, thanks largely to the unmistakable flavor of mesquite smoke--we got a filet mignon when we went last weekend, and it's probably the best thing we've eaten in at least a month. And while Bob's menu boasts bullshit sides like apple sauce, Texas Land & Cattle offers far more dudely options, like two kinds of fries (shoestring and steak) or Ranch House Beans.
But our favorite Texas Land & Cattle location does have one huge drawback--the waitstaff. Not all of them, mind you. Many of them are just fine. The guy that looks kinda like Javier Bardem is solid. Unfortunately we only remember two particular ones, who we can only assume were out-of-work actors. One was just far too pushy with the up-sells, insisting that we should get cocktails at 5 p.m. on a Sunday--a fine time to drink, sure, but we were more interested in the iced tea.
The other is easily the douchiest waiter we've ever encountered, however--and we've had him a few times.The first time he opened our meal with a speech about how we were living "the American dream" by enjoying Texas Land & Cattle on a Sunday afternoon with the fam, after which he proceeded to forget half of our order, presumably because he was trying too hard to stay in character. The second time, he did exactly the same thing. By the third time, we'd memorized enough of his spiel to know his every move in advance, at which point it became almost comically endearing. If anybody out there in cyberspace knows this dude, it might be time for an intervention. Perhaps the news will go down easier with an order of onion strings. Just a suggestion.