Wool Growers.
Bakersfield has a long Basque heritage, but all that's left of it is a handful of Basque restaurants. Everyone says Wool Growers is the best.
The boyfriend had had a tough week and an even tougher Friday, so I decided to treat him to dinner out on the town. We drove around for awhile trying to figure out where to go and finally settled on Wool Growers. I eaten there once before, not long after we moved here. The people I was working for took me out to lunch and I remember at the time I was fascinated with it. To be honest, I was still a bit shellshocked from the move and happy to finally be eating somewhere that wasn't fast food or a chain restaurant. The lunch menu was limited and I was told at the time that to get the full monty I really needed to come back for dinner. And tonight was the night.
It's in a seedy part of town, and industrial area east of downtown. We passed a hooker along the way. I'm assuming it was a hooker. With the sequined magenta hot pants and impossibly high wedge heels she didn't look like she worked for any of the surrounding auto body shops, which were closed anyway.
The restaurant is in an unassuming block building with a lovely antique neon sign. We didn't have a reservation so we put our name in and took a seat at the old school bar for a couple of drinks.
It's been here forever, but looked like it got a makeover in the 70's with sculpted, curvalicious popcorn ceilings. How can you not love a restaurant with a sheep theme?
The way it works is you only get to choose your meat, so to speak. It's a three course meal and everyone gets the same first two courses and the same sides with your entree. The boyfriend chose lamb chops and I chose the veal.
The first course is a soup, which is served family style with a bowl of red beans and salsa. You dish it all up in a bowl and mix it all together. It's served with hard cheese and bread.
Course number two is a vinaigrette salad served with tomatoes and pickled tongue.
And finally, the main course is your entree, served with spaghetti marinara, french fries and corn.
All in all, it was an utterly charming evening.
But we'll never go back.
Truth be told, the food was kinda awful.
It may have been rich and authentic at one time, but at best it reminded us both of a Jr. High cafeteria. Almost everything was obviously straight out of a can. And like all Bako restaurants, whatever flavor there was fled town long ago. We couldn't even tell the difference between the lamb and the veal and how can pickled tongue have no taste? It was like eating cardboard.
So, I can't say I'd recommend it for the food, but it certainly wins hands down for atmosphere. And that appears to be enough. As bad as the meal was, we still left is surprisingly high spirits. And in Bakersfield, that qualifies as a good thing.
