Trader Vics Bev Hills=Rip Off

My girlfriend is probably getting tired of the loyalty I show to institutions that are far past their prime. For instance, on our last trip to vegas, I booked a room at the Stardust to pay omage to the legendary hotel/casino before it's final card is dealt (scheduled for demo Nov 1st 2006). I wish I would have stayed somewhere else and merely played a few hands of blackjack in the tired pit instead. It really did resemble a vegas retirment home, just waiting to be imploded. In addition, I am a Raider's fan (0-5) and she is getting quite bored of sitting through the embarassing displays of bad football that I will not abandon until all four quarters have been played. Much like the Stardust, they had their days in the seventies. The owner is in a walker and the team is in shambles. Last night I began to realize these sentiments could be misplaced, and the revelation came on a tuesday night at Trader Vic's. That's right, we ATE there. My G.F. has no problem visiting Tv's for drinks, but the way I see it, why just drink at TV's when we live a block (yes, a block) from Tiki-Ti? If we are going to make the trip all the way to the Westside, we might as well eat. And that's where the soft spot for old dinosaurs gets me into trouble. Sure it was fun, hey, it was a trip to Trader Vic's. But then the bill came. A hundred bucks for what??? I had vegetable chow mein which for 18 dollars had better be 1000 times more delicious than Panda Express...no, it wasn't, nor was the portion enough to satisfy. I had to fill up on the hawaiian bread and peanut butter, which I feel is the best thing they have going for them. She didn't want to pay 50 dollars for chinese oven roasted duck so she opted for a couple sushi rolls. Add crab rangoon, which wasn't dissapointing but wasn't exceptional, and a few drinks (three to be exact), the bill came close to a cool hundo. Count me out. I could've eaten at any given Los Angeles culinary attraction, skipped the wine, and got out of there for the same, maybe less, and at least felt like I had a nice dinner on the town. Hell, I would've had a nice dinner on the town instead of that polynesian swindle in the Beverly Hilton. The best part was when I was looking at the glass case full of the famous Trader Vic porcelain mug wares and salt shakers. I turned to the hostess and asked "Do you sell these?" She said, "No. Go to Trader Vic's.com" And then instead of make myself look like a nerdy know it all, I kept my mouth shut, but the truth is none of those things are sold over the website. I haven't been to the Trader Vic's in Emeryville (i always chose Tonga Room instead) nor have I been to the new one in S.F., so maybe the oldest standing Trader is the oldest thinking and the chef makes a big difference. I don't know, you tell me.
astronaut

I'll admit that there's some sticker shock when getting the tab at the Trader Vic's. I figured I don't eat there all the time, and when I do, I'm willing to cough up some serious dough for the privilege of visiting a real vintage tiki temple. I almost consider it the price of admission. Maybe that's just what I tell myself so that I'll sleep better at night.
I have only eaten there twice, though, but I always thought the food was top notch. Maybe my Panda Express isn't that good.
Dang it, now you've got me craving the peanut butter and bread. And a menehune juice. I'm addicted to those things. And the little menehunes. I love those guys!