I have been to the Strip House for drinks and dinner innumerable times in the past few years, as it is a mere hop, skip and jump from my office. It was a natural choice to host my birthday party there. It was a small, family gathering, with a total of eight diners.
It was also the dining experience I have ever had. The restaurant seated us at a table meant for six people, and so we were continually subjected to the bumping and jostling by waiters and passing guests. I ordered a wine that "wasn't in stock" (this has happened on every single occasion I have eaten there....they need to update the wine list and stop tantalizing us all with a Nuit St. George that apparently never existed)and when I asked for the wine list again, it never re-appeared. The sommelier made his way to our table 30 minutes later and explained that he had brought a suitable replacement. We ordered two bottles and did in fact enjoy them. However, when the bill came, the replacement bottle we received was almost twice as expensive as the first bottle we had ordered. It was remiss of the sommelier not to mention this fact before he offered us this as a selection. However, the worst part of the evening (aside from the interminably slow kitchen and the brusque and crude waitstaff) was that even after I had made certain when I made the reservation that we could bring in a cake (which was homemade by my pastry chef mother), the staff acted like it was a dead rat and only reluctantly agreed to take it to the kitchen for cutting. We waited forty five minutes after the meal was cleared away before the cake made an appearance--with only seven slices! We were charged $8 a slice (rather than the flat fee I had been quoted)and were told that the cake, which has made enough for eight to ten people every year for my birthday for a decade, was not large enough for everyone to have a slice. A very sad, nasty birthday experience. (I won't even discuss the people at the next table who lit up a cigar, and were not asked to put it out, despite my repeated requests to the waiter, the sommelier, the maitre d', and the manager that someone please ask them to do so.)
The saddest part is that I wrote a letter to the Glazier Group, who own Strip House, among other NYC restaurants, detailing the abysmal evening, and I never got a reply, let alone an apology.
I will never ever darken the door of this restaurant again.