With a name like, "The Pink Pony," I was expecting a strip club. I was pretty sure my parents and their friends wouldn't take me to see naked ladies dancing, but I couldn't help but wonder if they were undergoing some sort of dementia. Once we arrived to the restaurant, I still wasn't convinced. Cut outs of pink ponies adorned the exterior.
Thank goodness, my parents hadn't lost their minds: the Pink Pony was indeed a restaurant. This was one of those old-style steak and dry martini joints, apparently frequented by the local baseball teams. Melba Toast and plastic packaged bread sticks rested in a basket on our table. I wondered how long they had been there.
The menu was fairly straight forward: a few different types of steaks and some seafood items, mostly fried. I opted for the Pink Pony Special: top sirloin and my choice of a potato and salad.
My steak was served as I ordered it, medium rare. The salad was nondescript and the potato came with a tiny ramekin of sour cream only. The interesting items on my plate were the deep fried onions and zucchini.
The food wasn't terribly exciting or tasty, but I liked this place. It actually had personality in a town that has been taken over by large shopping malls and chain restaurants. It boldly declares its character without any kind of shame. I think that's pretty cool.