The Mark Restaurant, Burien (review)
Oct. 4th, 2010 08:12 amOmaha and I went to The Mark, a restaurant in Olde Burien, the tiny one-block core of the ancient founding of my little city. The Mark is in a deal with the Burien Little Theater to provide "dinner and a show," in which you buy your tickets through the Theater, and get $20 off any entree. (The term 'entree' is very specific: if you buy an entree under $20 and a separate salad, you only get the entree for free.)
Our salads were unremarkable: commercially cut lettuce and hastily cut tomatoes, with weirdly cut, almost noodle-like mozzarella.
Omaha got the pot pie, which she registered as very good. The plate was American sized, meaning she took some of it home.
I got the small prime rib, "aged 28 days." I asked for it medium rare; I was expecting it to be hot, slightly firmed up, but still pink in the middle. What I got was something more like cow sushi: bloody red, slightly above body temperature, incredibly loose. It you like your meat so raw as to be recoverable, it was perfect, but it wasn't quite like what I expected.
The wait staff was eager and helpful. They had to be; the math on their receipt was a little hard to follow. Also, this place is part of an inter-business initiative to drive up awareness, so everything is branded: the water pots are "made by the pottery place up the street," the glassware is available down the block, the ice cream comes from the place across the street, and so on. It doesn't feel obtrusively spammy, mostly because none of them are national brands. It's not like Kraft and Nabisco are in your face. But it's still prevalent.
On the whole, the experience was somewhat meh.
Our salads were unremarkable: commercially cut lettuce and hastily cut tomatoes, with weirdly cut, almost noodle-like mozzarella.
Omaha got the pot pie, which she registered as very good. The plate was American sized, meaning she took some of it home.
I got the small prime rib, "aged 28 days." I asked for it medium rare; I was expecting it to be hot, slightly firmed up, but still pink in the middle. What I got was something more like cow sushi: bloody red, slightly above body temperature, incredibly loose. It you like your meat so raw as to be recoverable, it was perfect, but it wasn't quite like what I expected.
The wait staff was eager and helpful. They had to be; the math on their receipt was a little hard to follow. Also, this place is part of an inter-business initiative to drive up awareness, so everything is branded: the water pots are "made by the pottery place up the street," the glassware is available down the block, the ice cream comes from the place across the street, and so on. It doesn't feel obtrusively spammy, mostly because none of them are national brands. It's not like Kraft and Nabisco are in your face. But it's still prevalent.
On the whole, the experience was somewhat meh.
