"So you can make me come / that doesn't make you jesus"

[larryhammer]

Last night I ate for the first time at Claim Jumper,* a chain steakhouse with a reputation for superabundant servings. What I found was that the reputation is carefully crafted.

I'm slow at these things, so it took me a while to catch on. The first thing that struck me about the interior was the size: giant stone pillars supporting thick wooden beams, with decorations that evoke the Western American frontier with touches of Victorian refinement.** It wasn't until later that I noticed that the beams and pillars are far larger than they really need to be, and closer together. Most places that large, the impression given is space and airiness -- Claim Jumper imposes on you. Massive and cluttered, with few clear lines of sight. When the food arrived, the portions are not only way too large, but presented to look large: wide-rimmed plates with food piled high. And you eat this on a table that's not only a thick slab but high-set, making even me feel child-sized. Only then did I finally realize:

The entire place is designed to make you feel small -- and thereby make the portions seem even bigger than they already are.

The food was, indeed, good.*** And I do like me a buttermilk biscuit. But I still walked out feeling a bit pissed off at being so heavily manipulated.

Architecture: in skilled hands, it can be a powerful tool.


* For a friend's birthday -- and no, we didn't out her, so we don't know what song the wait-staff sing there.

** Far less mining-related paraphernalia than I expected, actually -- bare nods to the name.

*** Though I tried not to think about how much corn syrup was in the apple glazing and the sweet stuffing.

---L.

Comments

[jennifer-j-s.livejournal.com]

I've eaten there, too, although it hasn't been for awhile. You are totally right about the architecture!