The Chop House

By EWAN McDONALD for Viva

Friday. Ever since Monday, Rocky had had Friday on his mind. Now it was here. Friday was the biggest night of Rocky's life, the night he went out and tried to forget about the rest of his week for a few hours.

Friday meant the girls. Rocky's girls. He sighed as he parked the white panel van in the driveway and let himself into the house where he lived on his own. It was tricky, keeping each girl from hearing about the other. But he brightened. He'd managed it for years, no reason it couldn't go on the way it always had.

Though, he reminded himself as he buckled the Harley belt over his slacks, you had to call them women now.
The crew from the workshop were meeting at the new place in Albany, just off the motorway, on the corner. It was only a few minutes' drive in Rocky's pride and joy, the sea-green Anglia he'd restored to '60s perfection from a rusting wreck in a Whangaparaoa paddock.

People had laughed when he'd told them about his hobby, but Rocky didn't mind. After the Harry Potter movie, his car was a star. Who's laughing now, he told himself as he double-declutched, remembered there were only three gears and reverse was up there, and parked outside the Chop House.

He was first. They gave him a table right next to the big glass wall where he could see everyone arrive. Rocky liked that, liked to gaze on Albany sunset.

And that was another thing that they'd laughed at, his music. Said he was living in the past. Rocky liked the '60s. Besides, he'd started with the Move and then he'd bought every LP that ELO had ever made and now he had the Notting Hillbillies, too. Followed Jeff Lynne all the way. He'd sold his vinyl and bought the records on CD as soon as they came out. If that wasn't moving with the times, what was?

Someone asked if he'd like the menu, wanted a drink while he was waiting. Yes, he'd have a Steinlager. Not wine. He'd tried that Italian stuff, Velluto Rosso it was called, once, couldn't see what people saw in it. And thought about the girls again. They'd be here soon. How would he handle it?

The music came on: Engelbert Humperdinck, the Peddlers, Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood. Not many people remembered the names, Rocky thought, as he looked around the rapidly filling restaurant. There was a large group, probably three generations of the same family, at the next table. Grandma and Granddad would recall Some Velvet Morning, the kids wouldn't know what they'd missed.

The room was humming. The people at the next table called out for another drink, and the waiter brought a tray.
Rocky saw the crew from the workshop in the carpark. Soon there'd be shrimp cocktails and mushroom vol-au-
vents, huge steaks with baked potatoes and iceberg lettuce salads, crepes Suzettes and special coffees. They might even do the same thing tomorrow. Rocky had nothing planned. It was just another Saturday night, and he had some money because he'd just got paid.

But first, he knew, he had to sort out the business with the two girls. They were so different. One unsure, dreamy; the other familiar, comfortable, reassuring. And then, almost before he realised it, they were upon him. The Greatest Hits of the 60s CD on the sound system clicked into Dusty Springfield's Wishing And Hoping and then Sandie Shaw's Always Something There To Remind Me.

He grinned. Like the restaurant menu, his life would go on the way it always had. Rocky. And Dusty. And Sandie.

Open: Lunch Monday-Friday, Dinner 7 nights

Owners: Anthony Joseph, Megan Watson

Executive Chef: Warren Wood

Food: Retro steaks, grills salads and dessert

Wine: Almost the only thing that's not nostalgia: 70-plus good keen blokes and some decent Europeans

On the Menu: Jumbo shrimp, cocktail sauce $14.50; Turkey breast waldorf salad $12.90/$24.50; Prime Angus beef with baked or mashed potato or fries, bearnaise or peppercorn sauce or tomato, pepper, chilli salsa, $37.50; Pears belle Helene $8.90

Vegetarian: yeah right

Smoking: yes, but the areas are separated

Noise: Peddlers, Tom Jones, Ray Columbus, Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra

Bottom line: Watson and Joseph cornered the market in Albany (literally) with four adjacent eateries: the New City Bistro, New City Deli and café, New Brew tavern (all since sold) and this stylish popular steakhouse. Food and music are pure kiwi nostalgia, kitchen can be a little slow, while the dark wood and moody decor - and prices- are well into the new millennium.

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