2009 Fall Dining Guide

By Tom Sietsema
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, Oct. 18, 2009

Think of it as the poor man's Morton's. Owner Michael Landrum shook up the local steakhouse scene when he opened the original Ray's at 1725 Wilson Blvd. in Arlington seven years ago and began serving good beef for about half the price of the competition. He didn't charge extra for sides, which came with the meal, and he didn't bother dressing up the joint with anything more than some paint on the walls. Fans worried when the entrepreneur moved the operation to larger digs up the street (the original is now home to the Obama-approved Ray's Hell-Burger), but they needn't have. Just about everything chowhounds liked about the old establishment can be found in the new: spicy cashews for munching, unusual cuts of meat, and a wine program that got a whole lot of attention when ace sommelier Mark Slater came aboard from Michel Richard Citronelle. My cheat sheet begins with a tangy Caesar salad or crab soup and moves on to hanger steak or Brazilian strip, the latter ignited with a green relish similar to chimichurri. The check lands even before you've finished your Key lime pie. Landrum doesn't want his patrons to linger too long, in part because he says he detests "restaurants as entertainment" but also because there's probably someone waiting for your spot.

Sietsema Review

Moving On Up
At Ray's the Steaks, Change Is Good

By Tom Sietsema
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, July 19, 2009

With its February move from a modest shopping strip at 1725 Wilson Blvd. to slightly fancier digs up the street, Ray's the Steaks got a whole lot meatier. Owner Michael Landrum not only tripled the size of his business (to 150 or so seats) but also doubled the number of dishes on his menu and brought on a sommelier, Mark Slater, with serious street cred: 12 years overseeing the wine program at Michel Richard Citronelle in Georgetown earned the grape master a coveted James Beard Foundation award last year.

Fans of the original can rest easy. Much of what they liked about the first spot -- moderate prices for high-quality meat, the absence of a dress code -- survived the transfer. Even some of its critics should be pleased, since the new Ray's, unlike the old, takes reservations over the phone. Landrum's upgrades include carpet in half of the restaurant, linens on some of the tables and some sound-absorbing panels that were installed shortly before press time, although the frills end about there. As the populist owner says, "I like the idea of a restaurant without decor." The proof is on the walls, some of which are bare except for paint.

If you're a steak aficionado, you probably already know about the concept and its muse. Landrum opened the first Ray's in 2002 with the aim of delivering a memorable steakhouse experience for about half the price of what the headliners were offering. In the succeeding years, he added to his portfolio Ray's the Classics in Silver Spring and Ray's Hell-Burger in Arlington, just down the block from the original Ray's. The latter has been a burger lovers' draw from its inception, but the joint was overwhelmed after President Obama dropped by for lunch in May, necessitating a move to the vacated Ray's the Steaks. The brand is expected to continue with a seafood restaurant, Ray's the Catch, at 1725 Wilson Blvd., although Landrum has put that on hold at least until September.

Ray's the Steaks isn't for every diner. If you like a cocktail with your meal, you're out of luck: Wine and beer are the stiffest drinks on the menu. With few exceptions, Ray's the Steaks doesn't encourage lingering at the table, a practice customers are reminded of when their server asks to take their order within a minute of their being seated and when she sets the bill down along with any dessert. Landrum, who once waited tables at Capital Grille in Washington, argues that speedy service is a good thing, given the demand for tables at Ray's. On an average night, 450 people stream through the front door.

When he says he built his first and every other eatery "as a refuge from the restaurant business" and argues against "restaurants as entertainment," he isn't kidding.

Landrum's food provides sufficient stimulation, and the fun starts with a welcoming little dish of spicy cashews on each table. Deviled eggs, the down-home appetizer du jour in these cautious economic times, are filled here with fresh chopped filet mignon and draped with velvety hollandaise. The one-bite snacks are at once familiar and indulgent. Clam chowder has much to recommend it: lots of clams, lots of corn, lots of potato and some bacon to give it all heft. The missing accent is salt; a shake or two more would have tied everything together. There's nothing to fault in the sublime crab soup, however, which floats enough of the rich signature ingredient to make a crab cake.

That steakhouse staple, Caesar salad, delivers just the right cool crunch and assertive punch, and there's seafood to start if you want. Grill-singed scampi are good, but I prefer Ray's zingy blackened jumbo scallops, their sweetness matched by a garnish of soft onions and kept in check with sauteed garlic. Only in 2009 could bacon be labeled a first course; here, thick slices of grilled applewood-smoked bacon are held back by a sidekick of too-sweet sauerkraut.

What Landrum deems his favorite cuts, all from grass-and-grain-fed cows, are mine as well. Hanger steak, or what the French call onglet, comes from the lower side of the cow and is revered for its deep beefy flavor but not for its tenderness. Unlike the soft filet, the ropy hanger steak requires the full participation of one's teeth and jaws, but for some of us, that's part of the primal pleasure of eating meat. The equally succulent Brazilian strip, carved from part of the top sirloin, is treated to a minced green relish whose heat and kick suggest chimichurri. The seduction of those dishes extends to their cost: Both beefy excursions are just under $20.

Fajitas in a steakhouse? Take the plunge at Ray's, where the sliced beef (from the top sirloin) appears with creamy guacamole, chopped herbed tomatoes, that wicked green relish and two saucer-size tortillas that are thicker than I like but served warm. I don't know of a Mexican purveyor in the Washington area that makes a more enticing example of the dish. Another highlight on a long list of "butcher cuts" is beer-braised short ribs, a Rockwellian Sunday supper consisting of 20 ounces of mellow beef, potatoes and carrots that benefit from a swipe through the accompanying mustard and horseradish on their way to your mouth.

As before, Landrum and company cut and age the beef themselves, offering it in a range of sizes and with a rainbow of optional toppings. As much as I enjoy the top-selling juicy New York strip (choose from 12, 16 or 20 ounces) and tender filet mignon (best eaten with the aged blue cheese sauce), plenty of restaurants do well by those selections. So I tend to seek out items at Ray's that I can't find elsewhere. For instance, here's the rare restaurant that sells chateaubriand for one.

For the sake of science, I ordered rack of lamb, later wishing I hadn't. In comparison with the beef dishes, it's dull, a fate made worse by a watery red pepper sauce.

Unlike much of the competition, Ray's the Steaks factors two side dishes -- creamed spinach and mashed potatoes -- into the cost of a main dish. The vegetables are served family-style in little black skillets, and both are pleasing in their straightforwardness. Of the desserts, the most refreshing conclusion to such largess is the tangy Key lime pie.

Though I've dined at Ray's multiple times in its new location, I've missed face time with Slater, who was one of the biggest front-of-the-house assets at Citronelle. But the sommelier doesn't have to be present to be appreciated. His collection of affordable California cabernets, Italian reds and Argentine malbecs is particularly impressive, and it's a treat to find wines by the bottle for as low as $18 (for a Rioja from Spain). His employer says that since Slater arrived in March, "our wine prices have dropped 20 percent and our wine sales have increased 20 percent." In this game, everybody wins.

Freed from his tuxedo and tastevin, Slater says he's having a ball in his new role and has been pleasantly surprised to see many of his regulars follow him to the suburbs. "Four can eat at Ray's for the price of one at Citronelle!" says the guy who traded grand cru Burgundy for good old malbec and is, like his new boss, all too happy to serve the masses.