“Money, like vodka, turns a person into an eccentric.”

Anton Chekhov

EDIT: Central Steak is now closed.

Looking for something to do each Thursday? The Thursday I went, the radio station B95.5 was at Central Steak (1632 Central Ave, Colonie) from 5-7PM giving away gift certificates, as well as diamond earrings. The week I went, they were giving away free samples of Godiva’s new brand of vodka. They have the samples on an ice bar tended by “The Ice Man” as well as drink specials on the regular bar. In order to participate in the activities, you must have a dollar bill that has the letter B and the numbers 9-5-5 in the serial number. Then, you roll a die and the number you roll corresponds to the number of the balloon you pop and your prize is inside. The first guy to participate won the diamond earrings which the DJ said he had a 17% of winning.

Even if you don’t have a dollar to participate, this tends to be a very popular event with a lot of people to mingle with, if you choose. While they play music and you “get your drink on” waiters come around with samples of Central Steak food for you to try. My Mother and I ordered the special Godiva martini, she ordered the chocolate and I ordered the chocolate raspberry for $5 each. (Sorry for the blurry picture, I didn’t realize until later that night that it was blurry but it’s still a cool picture). The vodka tasted good but those drinks and the espresso one “The Ice Man” was sampling all tasted like Bailey’s. I have no problem with Bailey’s but if I want something to taste like Bailey’s, I figure that I’ll probably just order Bailey’s. I made friends with Charlie “The Ice Man” and got to try quite a few shots of the espresso shot they created. It was a very low key situation with great people, great food and great drinks.  Check their Facebook page for their list of changing events!

3 thoughts on ““Money, like vodka, turns a person into an eccentric.””

  • I have been a perfect-steak-searcher for years. Some background: when I was a kid, my father, whose father was a butcher,would go in with a friend and buy a “side” of beef. He’d have it delivered to the local butcher where it would hang to become “dry aged.” On Saturdays we’d go to the butcher shop and watch the butcher scrape off the mold and trim off the dried-out edges and deftly cut off two strip steaks 2 1/4 inches thick. The meat was crimson and “marbled” with intricate traceries of fat. Dad would cook the steak in an iron skillet (as the French do). Always rare. When done he’d put it on a warm plate and then pour red wine in the pan, add a pat of butter, swirl it around over high heat to make a sauce which he’d poured over the steak on the serving plate. That ritual turned me into a steak aficianado.

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