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Femme de Joie arrived late to the Dry Creek Station party. She had heard of it but had always assumed it was a sort of roadhouse-cum-greasy spoon with nothing much to justify the drive out east of Redding. Nothing against roadhouses or Ye Olde Greasy Spoon; it's just that she'd prefer the roadhouse to be within crawling distance of home, and there are plenty of greasy spoons to go around.

It was the fire just two years ago that alerted her that it might have something worth the drive - if people were in such a swivet over losing it, Dry Creek Creek station must have had something to recommend it besides cheap beer. So M. de Joie cannot join the chorus of yayers/nayers over whether it was better before the fire. That's like arguing over whether Joe Montana's retirement spelled the end of the 49ers: it doesn't matter now. Let us see what we have today.

Whatever the inside looked like before probably bears no resemblance to the decor today. When you enter off the front porch, the pleasant-looking bar is to the right. The dining rooms (of which there are three large spaces) look rather like an ordinary coffee shop with ordinary wooden tables and chairs, some faux-stone, a surfeit of bear paintings and bear hanging wall plaques, industrial carpeting and lighting.

Amico del Signore and M. de Joie made the drive - not all that far, really - for breakfast. It was crowded on a Saturday morning and service was friendly, if a bit harried and scattered. Getting a coffee refill took time.

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8-ounce fresh chicken fried steak and eggs, $7.50

Fresh chicken fried steak is what the menu said, and that is what it was. It looked like any other CFS but was by far the best we had ever tasted. The steak actually was fresh - not pre-breaded product made in Minnesota and shipped across the country - and covered with a luscious sausage country gravy. Tender and actually tasting of beef instead of Mystery Meat, this was a winner.

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Dry Creek Breakfast Burrito, $6.50
It was probably unfair to have this burrito at the same table as the Chicken Fried Steak. It was filled with eggs, sausage, potatoes, onions, cheese, and topped with the same country gravy as the steak, and was quite good on its own, but M. de Joie kept sneaking bites of the CFS instead. Not that the burrito was bad - it wasn't; it was all the savory breakfast items rolled up into one neat package. But the CFS was better.

On a late afternoon in midweek, we headed to Dry Creek Station for dinner. Arriving about 5:15 PM, the parking lot was already half full. We stood in the doorway uncertainly for several minutes until a waitress emerged from the back to lead us to a table. Presently she came around and took our drink orders - one margarita ($5.00) and one tall (24 ounce) Bud Light ($4.00), which were brought quite promptly to the table.

Despite the steakhouse name, Dry Creek Station has fish, salad, and pastas on the menu, as well as inexpensive ($4.50) desserts. There's a wine list but it isn't automatically brought to the table - it's standard pours (Robert Mondavi, Rodney Strong).

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All dinners come with a salad. This was bagged salad mix that was actually quite fresh (not always the case) with a little cup of dressing.

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All-you-can-eat barbecued ribs, $12.95, including choice of potato and bread.
We do miss the old Hatch Cover and their occasional special of BBQ beef ribs, but Dry Creek Station's ribs have put that longing to rest. Slathered with a dark BBQ sauce, very meaty and tender ribs fell off the bone at the slightest prodding. A second plate of ribs was brought at our request. A. del Signore said these were easily the best beef ribs he'd had in a restaurant.

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16-ounce prime rib with Au Jus, $14.95
This may have actually been more than a pound of prime rib. The crusty exterior had a strong salt-rub taste and the interior was cooked exactly to order. Mashed potatoes were creamy and house-made, with more of that country gravy. A thimble-sized container of horseradish proved to be explosively hot so it was more than ample. The odd little slice of grilled bread on the plate was pretty tasteless but did soak up some of the au jus.

Understand that this is not a steakhouse on the level of, say, Morton's of Chicago, or Ruth's Chris, or the House of Prime Rib. You might stand around waiting for someone to notice you before seating you - no hostess. There's no complimentary bread basket. Salads, though tasty, are minuscule. The forks and knives are just one step up from plastic picnic ware - Femme de Joie's fork actually bent as she attempted to detach a sliver of gristle with the cheapest steak knife on the planet. And it's LOUD - by 6:30 we were leaning across the table to yell to each other.

But the food is good, portions are generous, and prices are extremely reasonable. Service is friendly, though they could use another server on the floor. This is a solid local place with loyal clientele who pack it every night, so get here early.

Dry Creek Station, 22025 Highway 299 East (9 miles east of Redding), Bella Vista, CA 96008. 530-549-5386 or 530-779-0098. Open for breakfast Monday-Friday, 7 AM - 11 AM and Saturday-Sunday from 8 AM - 12 noon. Open for dinner daily, 5 PM - 9 PM. Cards and cash; no checks. Parking lot on-site. Vegetarian options. Full bar. Website and sample menu at http://drycreekstationhouseofsteaks.com/
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If you grew up in Redding or have lived here an appreciable amount of time, there are certain unwritten rules and codes that are unimpeachable and unchallengeable, God's Laws Of The Shasta County Universe which are eternal truths forever and ever world without end amen.

* It gets hot here in the summer.

* If there is six feet of snow on the ground, you will still see someone in shorts, flip-flops, and a tank top.

* Jack's Grill has the best steaks in the world.

Redding does get hot. Steering-wheel palm-blisteringly, bum-burning, plimsoll-meltingly, fry-an-egg-on-the-sidewalk hot. (But it's a dry heat.) Drive downtown or go into the Mt. Shasta Mall the day before Christmas or during a January cold snap, and there will be someone wearing the bare legal minimum of clothing. Invariably it is a person you would not wish to see naked, who sports copious underarm fur and tattoos on their calves.

But now, Mlle. de Joie is going to do something few people dare to: she is going to dis Jack's Grill. Mlle. de Joie understands this is like spitting in the Pope's eye, but yet, she must speak it as she sees it.

The history and the legendary status are what draw people in - that, and the admonishment that "If you're ever in Redding, you HAVE to go to Jack's. Best steak in the world." And you do go in because, well, you're in Redding and this place has The Best Steak In The World. Everyone says so.

Ooops. Did anyone tell you The Rule? Unless you arrive at Jack's at 4 PM to secure a table for 5 PM, you will have a two-hour wait. Mlle. de Joie doesn't know about you, but she is seldom interested in dinner at 5 PM. So you show up around 6:30 or 7 PM, determined to experience The Best Steak In The World, and suddenly you have a two-hour wait. But you're an optimist and think, "oh, it won't be that long," and decide to stick it out. Probably you will choose to wait at the bar. Mike the bartender is justifiably legendary for his skills, his memory, and mixing a fine drink. So you perch on a barstool and order up, and after a while you notice your glass is empty and you order again.

Around the hour and a quarter mark, you might feel the need to use the restrooms, so you carefully climb down off the barstool and totter toward the back of the restaurant into the toilet. It's a good thing that you have been steadily consuming alcohol: it will kill any germs you encounter and will help lessen the shock. The toilets at Jack's are bare-bones, one step removed from a Porta-Potty. The towel is one of those pull-for-fresh-towel dispensers; the person before you evidentally was cleaning the grease from under his fingernails. You do what you came in to do and get the hell out, trying not to touch any surfaces as you exit.

But hey, you think, I'm not here for the toilets, I'm here for The Best Steak In The World, so you reclaim the barstool and get another drink. Three, is it by now? Or four? Who knows? But I'm going to be eating steak so that should absorb the alcohol. Right?

Eventually time passes because it always does, and you are escorted to your table. By now you know you're intoxicated, so you smile graciously at the waitress and try to not run into any chairs or tables as you walk. Your table - which seems rather small, but you aren't in any condition to ask for a bigger one and anyway, there aren't any bigger ones - is adorned with a plastic lamp from the Dollar Tree with a 5-watt bulb (the 25-watt bulb having created a scorch mark on the back side of the lamp, which has been turned to the wall). The waitress hands you a menu.

The least expensive item is the ten-ounce top sirloin at $12.25. But then you notice Jack's "Steak" Ground Steak - "One pound of ground Filet, New York, and Top Sirloin, Chopped onions upon request.(When available) $12.55." Now if you hadn't had the last two whiskey sours, you might notice that what is essentially a hamburger patty constructed from trimmings off the steaks costs thirty cents more than an actual steak. "Tender Ocean Scallops," $12.80, but who orders scallops in a steak restaurant? "Southern Fried Chicken," $14.55 - why is chicken priced higher than beef? And why are the scallops cheaper than chicken? What's going on with the pricing here?

You came here for Meat, so that's what you order. You decide to go for "16 oz. New York. Jack Young's Personal Favorite. $21.55." Hey, good ol' Jack - if it's his favorite, then it's good enough for me. (According to the restaurant website, Jack was a WWI flying ace, which surely guarantees his discerning taste in steaks.) Presently the waitress brings you a small plastic basket with garlic bread - dry and skimpy on the garlic - and a plastic bowl with pre-mixed salad. It's chopped iceberg, canned green beans, and dressing. There's enough for two servings, depending on how you feel about canned green beans.

Then comes The Best Steak In The World. It will be placed on a plain white plate with either French fries or a baked potato. There are no other options except a side of mushrooms ($4.75) - no creamed spinach or au gratin potatoes (both steakhouse standards). You wonder if this is all there is, and when it becomes apparent that this is it, you dig in.

It will be, well, steak. Steak that's heavily salted and grilled so the exterior has a nearly-burnt taste. Steak you are eating in a dingy, dark, crowded matchbox of a restaurant that hasn't had a facelift since they moved the beds out of the whorehouse upstairs back in the '40's.

But is it the Best Steak In The World?

Mlle. De Joie says No. By the time you get your dinner you are so drunk you would eat a medium-rare basketball, retread fries on the side. Even if you held the line with your drinking, the steak is still not any better than a steak at any number of other area restaurants. A person with a modicum of backyard barbecue skills can purchase a decent cut of beef for a reasonable price and easily grill up a dinner that surpasses anything Jack's can turn out. As she types this, Mlle. de Joie has in her freezer a 4.98-pound package of filet mignon, purchased for $18.77 - more than enough filet for five people. A single ten-ounce filet mignon dinner at Jack's costs $25.65.

There is plenty of money being made at Jack's so they obviously are catering to The Faithful. They see something in Jack's that Mlle. de Joie does not - they can look past the scary toilets, the overpriced menu, the retro-without-the-humor atmosphere, the nonexistent cheap decor, and are True Believers in The Best Steak In The World myth. For the price of dinner at Jack's Grill, Mlle. de Joie expects more than they deliver.

- Femme de Joie

Jack's Grill, 1743 California Street, Redding. 530-241-9705. Bar open 4-11:30 PM; dinner served 5-11 PM. Closed Sundays. Credit cards accepted, no checks. See menu & website at http://www.jacksgrillredding.com

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