The Knife and Fork InnThe Knife and Fork InnEvery time we’ve been to Atlantic City the last few years, we dine in one of the town’s many dive bars. By the time dinner rolls around, we’ve either lost too much money to afford anything else or it’s way too cold to go and wander from the casino.
On a recent Friday night, we decided to have a real dinner in Atlantic City, and I thought I’d do a little research first: Where does one get really good food and a good value, but NOT inside a casino?
Online I found two places: The Back Bay Ale House and The Knife and Fork Inn. Reviews for both were good, but there are startling differences. Two very different leagues.
Trying to keep our budget and Dave’s comfort in mind, I thought the Back Bay Ale House was a good place to start. In Historic Gardner’s Basin, it’s a tough little place to track down. The small bar was jammed with locals and the noise from the upstairs dining room was filtering down. We sat at a tiny table next to the bar, had a beer and looked at the menu. The sticky table and typical meal offerings left us unimpressed. We could get a $18 steak w/potato closer to home … and eat it on a clean table.
Still hungry, we decided to stop into the Flying Cloud, right next door. Now, this is what you call a dive with a view. Situated right on the water, there’s plenty of outdoor seating. And if you go, trust me, sit outside. The second we walked in, an overpowering scent of mildew attacked our senses. We moved to the outside bar, but the smell just followed. Hungry and lightheaded from that first beer, we order the appeitiser special: Tuna Bites: $5.99, recommended by the bartender.
Dave liked them. I ate some, only because I was starving. But seriously, they tasted like cat food. First, it was a huge portion, almost 2 whole filets diced up (how can they serve so much “good” tuna at $5.99?). Second, they were saturated in teryiaki sauce. Third, they were overcooked to the point of crumbling. Lastly, they were served with a brown-ish tinged wasabi, that tasted oddly of fish. Ugh. Horrible. Sometimes cheap is not good. Moving along…
Finding our way out of the Basin, we head down Pacific. I’m still hungry and it’s early enough for dinner still. I remember about the Knife and Fork and we continue down until Pacific meets Atlantic and there on the corner, is the strange Flemish styled building.
We park, unsure how our Hyundai will fare between the BMW and the Mercedes. A crowd of well-dressed smokers loiter around the entrance, and once inside we put our name in for a table and get a drink at the very handsome bar.
This place has some amazing history. It all started as a Men’s Club in 1912, read more about it here: http://www.knifeandforkinn.com/about.html
Our table was ready in less than 15 minutes and we were led upstairs into a vaulted stone-ceilinged room. Beautiful dark woods, deep red fabrics, happy, people relaxed over their food. I could tell I was going to like this place.
Oh, the food! The food! What delicious food indeed! We started with an plate of Artesianal cheeses, paired with a delicious red wine. Fantastic. I ordered the Filet Oscar, served with lump crab, asparagus and hollandaise. The meat was PURE perfection. I’ve never had a better steak. Done perfectly medium rare, seasoned simply but correctly, slightly charred, and butter tender. I cried a little everytime I took a bite. And at $44, it had better be good. Just amazing.
Dave had the rack of lamb, rare. He enjoyed it, but coveted my filet, which I happily shared. I can’t comment too much on the lamb, since I’m not much of an expert.
Service was impeccable. Our waiter was informative, friendly, relaxed and prompt. He never hovered, he smiled, we wanted for nothing. I would’ve stayed there all night just enjoying the ambiance, but it was getting late and the slots were calling our name. Too full for dessert, we wobbled out satisfied but a little sticker-shocked. All in all, worth it.
We play at the Tropicana, it’s got everything, plus lots of parking. I lost, as usual. Dave lost, as usual. Even poorer than before, we needed something to lift our spirits. So, into Cuba Libre we went, where the Salsa music was loud and the girls barely dressed. A few cocktails while watching the floor show, and we’re all smiles again. Who cares how much we lost, right? I grab a fresh gelati for the road that we slurp all the way home, winners in a different way.
