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Read the Review: Johnny Utah

Linda Perney | amNY.com

September 21, 2007

This is, so far as I know, the only restaurant in New York where you have to sign a waiver. Not for the food -- although there are some caveats there. It's about the bull. The only mechanical bull within the city limits.

You come in on a busy night, and there it is, isolated in its very own candle-lit bull ring, something that looks like a lumpy old sofa covered in what appears to be a black shag rug. For all the hype, it's about as impressive as lumpy old sofas generally are.

But at a certain point, it comes into its own. The lights come up. Slowly, it revolves a few times, just warming up. It picks up a little speed, does a modest almost dainty -- little dip. And then. ...Well, then, nothing, until somebody climbs aboard and holds tight.

Make no mistake. Just as in Vegas, the house never loses; here, the bull always wins, throwing its riders off onto a padded floor with a ferocity that seems truly vicious, whipping them first to the left, then to the right, pushing them backward, then flipping them forward. Whiplash is the first thought that comes to mind.

Lawyer is the second. But there it is, that waiver. One longs for a good, old-fashioned ambulance chaser to rip it to shreds. Johnny, you want to hear him growl, you ain't in Utah anymore.

Which brings us to one of the central problems of places like this: They may be fine in those towns that have reason to love them; they may work well in a mall. But a half-block from Fifth Avenue this is definitely an intruder, loudly out of place, gawky, and badly dressed.

Never mind that this particular place has certain pretensions: a fancy design and a chef from Blue Smoke. You don't go to places like this for the food. Among the appetizers we ordered, the guacamole was tired and waxy. Wings were passable, but no more than that. The barbecued, bacon-wrapped shrimp were good the bacon a nice, crispy contrast to the fish. The iceberg wedge with blue cheese was a sop to childhood tastes, and a perfect comfort. The coleslaw was fine, but the biscuits were leaden.

For main courses, we stuck pretty close to the Texas mainstream: ribs that were tasty if a little oversweet; an unimpressive brisket. The rib-eye was cooked just fine but who was the butcher who mangled this meat? Fat, gristle, all had to be cut away to get to the steak-y essence.

The true sacrilege was the burger: the mainstay of places like this. My bacon cheeseburger arrived topped with a quarter-inch slab of what appeared to be ice-cold white plastic decorated with two pale, undercooked bits of bacon. That plasticky stuff turned out to be mozzarella, according to a manager who said it was the only cheese they had. Which seemed a trifle odd in a place that serves what must be a ton of blue-cheese daily in the form of salad dressing and wing sauces. But never mind. Like I said, you don't come here for the food.

There is one other consideration. While we've all become accustomed to painfully high noise levels, especially in bars, and while you'd be an idiot to expect anything approaching normal decibel levels in a place that builds its hopes on a large mechanical animal, that doesn't excuse the hellacious noise. Halfway down the block, you can locate Johnny's just follow your ears. And, when you do, spare a decent tip for the waitstaff, who are probably losing their hearing, bit by bit, in the interests of the bull.

25 W 51st St, New York 10019 Btwn 5th & 6th Ave

Phone: 212-262-1600

Hours: Open for lunch and dinner. Bull rides don't start till 9 pm; the bull is quiet at lunchtime.
Cuisine: American/Southwestern
Price Range: Appetizers, $8-$14; main courses, $14-$28
Wheelchair Access: Long staircase to downstairs restaurant. Use elevator in the hotel above the restaurant

Around the neighborhood: Go shopping: The Saks shoe department is the first in the city to have its own zip code. If shoes are your passion, you can't do better. Have a taste for something sweet? Head over to the Channel Gardens to Teuscher's Chocolates for spectacular champagne truffles. Want a civilized meal with a view? Try Brasserie Ruhlmann, part of Laurent Tourondel's empire, for classic French bistro fare and art deco surroundings. If the weather is nice, take a seat on the terrace. (45 Rockefeller Plaza)