Now let's be clear, TCC is not Morton's, Providence, Hatfield's, or Craft so if you're looking to spend 60+ bucks on a steak this may not be the shishi experience that you're going for. However this place is not Sizzler, Black Angus, or Outback either. What it is is the best damn steak you're going to find in Los Angeles County for the price.
You heard me right, the ENTIRE County of Los Angeles - and it's in Lancaster.
When I walked in I was neither impressed nor put off by the ambience. It was Monday night around 5:30 so it was noticeably desolate, minus the occasional senior citizen couple or sad old man here and there, but I was promptly greeted by the friendly and charismatic host (yes, host, not hostess) named Stephen who exuded the type of youthful exuberance only displayed by those who have yet to suffer a soul crushing defeat. In other words he was peachy keen.
Stephen showed me to my booth... okay, to be honest I pee'd first, but that doesn't matter for the sake of this review so like I said before HE SHOWED ME TO MY BOOTH. Soon therafter I was delivered an overflowing basket of semi-stale buttered popcorn/kettle corn and within a matter of minutes my lovely server, Rebecca, greeted me.
She was delightful, full of menu knowledge and cunning with her upsales without coming across as disingenuous or pushy. I asked which was more popular, the $20 porterhouse or the $18 rib eye, and sensing her hesitation I asked instead her personal preference. She quickly told me it was the porterhouse as it was a leaner cut. Well that was the wrong answer but I appreciated her effort (as any steak aficionado will tell you the most important aspect of choosing a cut, unless it's filet mignon, is the marbling as it dictates both the juiciness and tenderness of the meat). Of course, she was watching her figure and I'm ostensibly eating for two.
I then ordered a $4.95 glass of merlot, simply called Merlot, to arrive with my meal. As I waited I was brought a huge salad ill fit to the small wooden bowl it was served in. Fortunately it was so delicious that it soon fit just fine with a little room to spare. The iceberg/romaine blend was crisp, fresh, and shredded to the bite sized ideal. It was tossed with cabbage, black olives, diced tomatoes, and croutons and paired with one of the most flavorful and well balanced bleu cheese dressings I've ever tasted. It's at times like this when I seriously contemplate the ease with which one could be a vegetarian...
Then my steak arrived and I said fuck that noise!
First off, it was seared to perfection, not charred but with the distinct checkered pattern from where the flames had kissed and caressed my meat until it was ready to lay before me. Unfortunately, the chef accidentally spilt some baby tomatoes and red and yellow peppers shaped like clovers on my steak - I say unfortunately because I don't want to believe that anyone would consider this a decent garnish - but luckily three onion rings also made there way on there so all was forgiven; and it was served with "garlic" mashed potatoes topped with just a fling of shredded cheese which I soon regretted ordering instead of the baked potato or fries once I saw it's slightly watery consistency. The Texas Toast however could be proudly displayed on the cover of The Betty Crocker Cookbook.
Now let's get to the pièce de résistance... the steak... it was perfect. PERFECT!
Medium rare, of course, you well done people are freaks who should just save these cooks the trouble and eat your own shoes instead. Light pink on the inside, but not bleeding or undercooked, and the flavor was amazing. Now for better or worse, oh who am I kidding, for worse, I'm an advent salter. This steak however didn't need a single grain of salt, pepper, or otherwise and I savored every last morsel. I would have even gnawed on the shank bone like a malnourished street dog if I didn't think it would've terrified the old people. It was American heaven... or Indian hell (dot or feather, take your pick, joke works either way). I then washed down my decadent victory with the glass of "Merlot" merlot and asked Rebecca for my check and a small bag. She graciously took care of my every need with a heartfelt warmth and didn't even look at me sideways when I told her I planned on sneaking that stale popcorn into the movies with me.
Let's see Morton's do that! read more