I’ve always found the possessive-ied name of Ruth’s Chris Steak House quite curious. I’d once assumed “Chris” was “Ruth’s” child, thus “Ruth’s Chris”—an homage to their mom—but no: the actual origin is both delightfully charming and boringly corporate. The origin story of this “non-chain chain” is surprisingly heartwarming.

It also brought to mind the chintziest experience I’ve ever had at a steakhouse.

Almost 20 years ago I created a site called Steak Adventures—“Enjoying good steak with good friends then bragging about it.” Every few months or so a couple of us would visit a San Francisco steakhouse and write a “review.” It was mainly an excuse to hang out with my good friend Cathy, my then-girlfriend-now-wife Ying, and one or two other friends. (It was also an early attempt at being a food blogger—what today we might call an influencer 🤮.)

Anyway, one of those Adventures was to Ruth’s Chris Steak House on Van Ness. I’ll let two-decades-ago us take it from here:

Ruth’s Chris is a non-chain chain; you probably have at least one in your neighborhood, but it’s considered higher-end. It’s all dark wood and dim lighting. In many ways, it’s a reproduction of what many people think of when they think “steakhouse”. And like most reproductions, it pales in comparison to the real deal.

We were very excited to go to Ruth’s Chris; it was five of us after an improv workshop, and we had worked up an appetite bouncing around a room making bad puns. […]

When we were finally seated, we quickly ordered a bunch of appetizers, including an order of steak fries. When the fries arrived, they looked great. One problem: the dish contained exactly four french fries. Four french fries for five people. The phrase “clip joint” comes to mind. It’s bad enough to serve an appetizer of four fries, it’s beyond unacceptable to do so to a table of five people.

To this day, four french fries for five people remains shorthand for inappropriately small servings and inattentive service—would it have killed them to put one more french fry on the plate? It’s the first thing that comes up when someone mentions Ruth’s Chris.

The rest of the experience wasn’t great—we had to wait to be seated (despite having reservations), the “famed buttered steak” used the extra dairy to mask bland meat, the tables were too tightly spaced, the wine list was uninspired, and the bill was excessive for the quality of food and service. (About $50 per person—a fortune in 2006! That wouldn’t even get you a petite filet today.)

We concluded:

We couldn’t recommend Ruth’s Chris to anyone looking to experience a good steak, or a good steakhouse.

I haven’t been to a Ruth’s Chris since. I hope their plates have more fries.