We handed the meal decision-making reins to Boot & his girlfriend, L, for dinner Saturday night. Boot chose Texas Roadhouse. We haven't been there in a very long time, as there doesn't seem to be one near us. We arrived at 4 in the afternoon to find it absolutely slammed, which seemed really weird for that hour. Later, as we were leaving, it was even more packed, so I'm glad we had an early dinner! We had just enough time for a drink at the bar (I had a pretty decent, if somewhat watered down, Jamaican Cowboy, with Malibu rum, peach schnapps, orange and pineapple juices, and a little bit of a margarita) before we were seated. There was no lightbulb in the booth's fixture, so Boot went to request a lightbulb. We were told that there's an electrical problem with that fixture and offered a different booth, when one became available. Not interested in waiting longer, we just stayed at that table. It wasn't a huge deal, but was a bit weird.
Jeannene and I both chose the smallest ribeye possible. I had a salad with mine that seemed like it was mostly iceberg, cheese shreds, and chopped egg. When I get a salad, I like to have vegetables in it, so I was done after a few bites, instead sinking my teeth into one of their yummy yeast rolls with cinnamon honey butter. Jeannene chose rattlesnake bites and a cactus blossom for our appetizers. Luckily, Boot's girlfriend likes spicy food, because the rattlesnake bites (fried Monterey Jack with a goodly dose of diced jalapeño) were too hot for the rest of us to handle! I didn't even finish one---took a bite and that was plenty. The onion was good, too, but dripping with oil from the deep frying, so I chose not to eat much of it. I could cheerfully have devoured a decent chunk of it, though, had I not been thinking about my arteries. Good thing she didn't order the fried pickles, because I have less self-restraint with those.
Our steaks were delicious, perfectly cooked and quite flavorful, and our baked potatoes were fluffy and tender. Boot had ribs with his and reported that they were great. L was quite happy with her country-fried steak, once they brought her the right kind of gravy for it. It was enormous, though, so she took half of it home. None of us were hungry for dessert. I'd ordered a peach margarita, thinking it could be my dessert, but it was so sickly sweet that I couldn't bring myself to drink it.
We watched the way the operation of the restaurant ran and, I have to say, it was as well-oiled as the cactus blossom. Everything ran in a smooth cadence that was pretty impressive, for as chaotic as the place was while we were there.