A walk down memory lane: Ray's The Steaks

Ray's The Steaks
1725 Arlington Boulevard (at N Quinn)
Arlington, VA 22209
703-841-7297

For my last year or so in DC I was part of an informal association – an invitation-only club that met once a month and still does to this day, only now without me. We called ourselves the Scotch Club, formed as a male-only retaliation to a female-only book club that a friend of ours had set up. We would get together to drink Scotch and compare our tasting notes, but in reality few of us knew anything about the drink, and some even despised it. But we all liked one another, and so Scotch Club became a symbol greater than the drink we celebrated – a symbol of good times, with good friends, living large in the nation’s capital. More than anything it was an experiment in the social nature of man and his proclivity for forming associations and institutions – to make the days and the nights of this passing life a little less lonesome and a little more bearable.

Once a quarter we would organise an outing, be it a scotch tasting event or a trip to Shelley’s Back Room for a good cigar. Sometimes these outings involved scotch, and sometimes they didn’t. One of these outings was so nice, we had to do it twice: making the pilgrimage across the Potomac to Arlington, VA and a restaurant called Ray’s the Steaks for a nice, thick, juicy cut of beef. Scotch, stogies and steak: at the risk of sounding chauvinistic – those form perhaps the Holy Trinity of masculinity. Of course, a mention is also due to the fourth and more unsavoury cousin – strip clubs.

I have always believed that the meat that you can get at steakhouses is far superior to the meat available to the common consumer because restaurateurs (especially the national chains) usually get first dibs on the good, USDA Prime beef. They have access to better distribution channels, and their sheer demand gives them leverage with the top cattle growers both in and out of the United States. It is the sole reason I still go to steakhouses, for I think I can make a pretty damn good steak by myself at home. But because the meat I have to work with was never as good as that which I could get by eating out, I had to go to the Palm, or Morton’s, or Smith & Wollensky. I never really liked Ruth’s Chris, and the Capital Grille was mediocre at best. All that was, of course, before I went to Ray’s the Steaks.

There are many things you have to put up with if you want to eat at Ray’s the Steaks. Foremost and perhaps most annoying, the restaurant does not take reservations. This means that you have to show up the day of, and either hope you are lucky enough to be able to walk in and get a table, or drop by at least two hours in advance to put your name down. My annoyance at this policy abated a little when I found out that this was designed to make things easier for the people living in the immediate vicinity, and to preserve the “local restaurant” flavour of Ray’s. Still, it is rather annoying.

In addition, Ray’s is a no frills, mom-and-pop restaurant. There are no white tablecloths; there are no large Burgundy wine glasses. The décor is nothing to shout about – the walls are painted an unmemorable off-white and are unadorned of any art or artifice. It reminds one of a high school cafeteria, or even a homestyle local eatery in the Jersey suburbs. It is even located in a strip mall. The service is brusque and the waitresses move quickly but surely – focused more on their own efficiency rather than your general comfort. The wine list is sparse but filled with very drinkable wines for very reasonable prices.

If you can put up with all that, then your reward is one of the best steaks I have ever had the fortune of eating, and all the complimentary mashed potatoes and creamed spinach you can stuff your face with. Ray’s ages, cuts and trims all their steaks on-site – and the result is a large, thick-cut, juicy and well marbled corn-fed piece of beef, grilled however you want it and served with whatever sauce you choose. I had the filet, with a peppercorn sauce that was as tart as brandy and as smooth as heavy cream – a sinful but savoury accompaniment to what was a succulent steak.


There are also several nods to the good old days – before nutritionists had their say – when people did not just have seconds or thirds for dinner, but second and third dinners in one sitting. I thought my filet was already a huge hunk of meat, but at Ray's you can also get the "Cowboy Cut" – a 28-ounce bone-in ribeye – or the Chateaubriand – center cut toploin sliced and served with onions, mushrooms and asparagus. The latter is advertised as a meal for two, but originated as a cut for one person – the author and diplomat who served Napoleon and Louis XVIII, from whom it takes its name. They really knew how to eat in those days. I sometimes wonder if I would trade another five years of life expectancy, for the ability (or blissful ignorance) to make stupid decisions or eat and drink to wanton excess. It’s a toughie, that one.

I think I might despise people who eat their meat well-done even more than I despise vegetarians. At least vegetarians have morals. People who eat meat well-done on the other hand, should not be allowed anywhere near the scarce supply of good beef available to the rest of us, and should be refused entry at any self-respecting steakhouse.

I liked my dinner at Ray’s because I was with good company, but also because of the acceptance that the dinner was not going to be about the service, or the wine, or anything else but the steak. Even the bread and the sides, though solid, were mere distractions. You come to Ray’s because you crave sinking your teeth into a pink and juicy slice of meat, charred on the outside but barely warm on the inside. Accepting that it is all about the meat allows you to focus solely on the enjoyment of that particular experience, and it was not unexpected that conversation came to an abrupt halt once our steaks had arrived. For several minutes there were only the sounds of cutlery clinking on plates and the low, gruff, moans of satisfaction only a steak can elicit.

Ray’s the Steaks has now expanded beyond its modest mom-and-pop beginnings: there are multiple locations, a retail arm, and a burger joint just down the street. I do not know what this means for the Rosslyn location. I do hope, for all our sakes, that it preserves what has made it so unique in the past – a dedication to the local community and the ideals of nourishment over artifice, and not least of all, putting good steaks on the plates of its diners.




Photographs courtesy of Brian T. Hege