Oh, my hopes were high for Kevin Rathbun Steak. Kevin, brother of Kent, is, like his brother, a rock star chef here in Atlanta. Kevin’s two spots, the other is called Kevin Rathbun, are located on Krog Street (love it!) in the Inman Park neighborhood of Atlanta which I can only equate, based on the route we drove, to the Deep Ellum/Exposition Park area of Dallas. Anywhoo, the steak place is in a fabulously redone red brick warehouse and the interior is a complete knockout: stacked reclaimed wood and brick walls, high black ceilings, minimal lighting, sexy glass-backed bar painted with blood red swirls, and a sleek, modern antler-esque chandelier in each dining room. Although our waiter was one of those over-the-top-Hi-I’m-Larry-I’ll-be-your-waiter-and-your-newest-best-friend types, we were loving the vibe. Until nature took control.
I’d barely gotten my feet through the door (above) when a storm knocked the power out. We sat there for 45 minutes and watched the lucky folks who managed to get their dry-aged porterhouse for two served before the lights went out in Georgia. (Sorry.) So, innocently, we left. However, this incident made me wonder: do upscale restaurants have insurance for these kinds of things? What emergency plans do managers have for dealing with these occurances? I am going to call when I get back and find out. Quick aside: I noticed on Kevin’s website that he has his name trademarked. I realize it is also the name of his restaurant, but what if I married a Rathbun, had a son, and wanted to name him Kevin? Could I? Would I? I am really in a curious mood today.
