Whitehouse Inn, Whitehouse, OH

The Whitehouse Inn restaurant was a log cabin sitting in the center of the quintessential, American, small town of Whitehouse, Ohio. 

The interior was warm; dark wood and neutral colors. The walls were adorned with old photographs of past Presidents and Washington D.C. landmarks. I was sitting with three other guests in what looked like a three-season room, looking-out on the patio. 

We ordered a couple glasses of wine and an appetizer--the sampler. It came with fried cheese sticks, pretzel bites, onion rings, and potato skins--all of it good, above-average. 

Individual salads came to the table. The salad was typical: lettuce and tomato, shredded carrot. The vinaigrette dressing was good. It was a sweet variety, more viscous than I expected. But then, little ceramic cups dripping with toasty cheese were placed on the table. Digging into it, I found the broth savory, the textures agreeable; the French-onion soup was excellent. Unfortunately--spoiler alert--it was the best thing I ate at Whitehouse. 

 

As we waited for our food, I couldn't help but notice the large helpings of potatoes in-transit to nearby tables. They came in various forms: a heap of mashed potatoes and gravy needed it's own plate, as did the hash browns smothered in cheese. They looked good, but later I would think they tasted bland. A lot of salt was necessary to help the hash browns along, and still I would have preferred them at breakfast, rather than dinner, to complement an egg yolk or two. 

Then came the star. I had ordered the "Vice President" cut of prime rib with garlic rub. It was a thick slab, somewhere around 30 ounces. In all honesty, I was put-off by the presentation of the dish. The prime rib itself had the appearance of boiled meat. It wasn't the delicate, salmon-color of a perfectly cooked piece of rib. It was brown, like a potroast. No herb crust enhanced its flavor or lent any interesting texture. It was served in its juices. I prefer to dip my steak in hot au jus, so I suppose I could have asked for some on the side, but there seemed to be plenty on the plate. I would have taken a bite, but I didn't have a knife. 

You've been to nice, upscale places where the waiter comes around before your entrée is served, and replaces the knife you used for your salad with a clean steak knife? Not here. So I waited a while, eating my grilled vegetables; a green bean and squash medley. They were well-enough prepared, but, again, bland, and nothing to write home about. 

Finally, I received a knife, and I cut into the steak. It was tender enough, but definitely overcooked. It wasn't seasoned heavily, and didn't seem to have been marinated. It just tasted average. And it was cold. In fact, everyone at the table had a cold piece of prime rib in front of them. Look, I'm used to a tepid prime rib served alongside hot au jus, because it's understood that a steak prepared to medium-rare isn't going to be searing-hot to begin with, but these steaks weren't warm at all. And here's a tip: skip the garlic rub. It's about a teaspoon of finely chopped garlic (like the kind from a jar) spread over the top of the steak. It's not visually appealing, nor does it add much flavor. It's just...garlic. I was expecting something awesome, like a really good, garlicky hotel butter. No such luck. 

It made sense, actually, that the meals were cold, because by this time, we had waited over an hour for our entrées. That's right. While other patrons were seated after us (not one, not two, but at least three tables!), ate, and left, we were still waiting for our steaks. The manager was called over, but he didn't show right away as he was "busy answering the phone," and then "trying to seat people." Finally he arrived and we discussed with him the less-than-stellar service we had received, the cold meals, the long wait. He apologized, and then said, "I've got you guys. I'll cover your bill." And then he walked away. 

We were taken aback, and were left feeling awkward like outed shysters trying to con a free meal. But it was a nice gesture. And he did apologize again as we were headed out the door. And truthfully, after a meal like that, I was grateful not to have to pay.