Quick!

What’s on the corner of Mission, Jackson, and Foothill; and when we were kids, it had a big sign out front that spun around (the sign doesn’t spin any more).

Need a hint? The once-spinning sign has a cow’s head protruding from it.

The Hayward Ranch restaurant and bar, right? Right!

You know, I’ve lived in Hayward for most of my life and I’ve never been in that place (until Friday night). Over the years I’ve probably driven past it thousands of times. Kinda weird, that. I’ve never thought much about it.

Last October Crazy Uncle David (Scott’s 50-something year old uncle with handlebar moustache and long, silver hair braided down his back who rides Harleys) remarked to me at the cabin in Trinity last hunting season that the Hayward Ranch had really good dinners and that he thought I would like it.

Hmmm… OK, what the hell? I’ll try it.

I walked in to the Ranch at around 6pm on Friday night. I was immediately greeted by smiles from the patrons at the bar. The cute hostess and bartender were very friendly. I felt welcome, comfortable, at ease, relaxed.

The decor of the place was so cool. Hanging from the walls and ceiling are all sorts of things you’d expect to find on, well, a ranch. Bit and bridle for horses, hitches for teams of working animals, saddles, old rifles and six-shooters, pictures from a by-gone era, stuff like that. I spent most of my time just looking around at all the things surrounding me.

As soon as I sat down someone was by to drop off a basket of sliced sourdough french bread and a bowl of butter pats. You know, the kind of bread that’s sliced, but not sliced all the way through, so you have to tear off hunks. I don’t know why, but I’ve always loved bread like this.

My server’s name was Adrianna and she was a perky ball of energy and joy. She recommended the clam chowder, which was excellent, and something from the grill. I went big–and ordered the porterhouse steak. When I told her that I’d lived in Hayward most of my life but had never been inside the Hayward Ranch she smiled and said, “We get that a lot. I think you’ll like it here. I bet you’ll be back.”

Throughout my dining experience all the servers in the joint would periodically stop by to ask me how I was doing and if I needed anything. I appreciate that kind of service.

My steak potato veggies arrived quick and hot. From the first bite of my porterhouse I was hooked. The flavor of the meat was better than anything I’ve ever accomplished. My dinner was sooo good! I was blown away. I haven’t had a steak that good in… I don’t know how long. Everything was excellent. My potato was perfect with my sour cream, chives, and bacon bits. My veggies were cooked just firm enough and not soggy at all.

Sorry, no room for dessert. I thanked Adrianna again for her excellent service and a fantastic meal. And then I tipped her PHAT (that’s “phat” with a P H). I was a server and a bartender for years in SoCal, so I can appreciate good service–and I reward people who go the extra mile. I felt good about my tipping generosity, and I walked away from my table feeling quite happy with myself.

I walked over to the bar side of the building and spent a few minutes chatting with the other customers as well as the bartender. Everyone was very friendly. Most of them have been coming to the Ranch for years and years. I can’t say that I blame them–in fact I’m sorry that it’s taken me 35 years to try the place.

All those wasted years! Thirty-five years that I could have been enjoying the goodness that is the Hayward Ranch! Now that I’ve discovered the Ranch I want everyone to know, and I want to take everyone there, so they can discover it too.

As I left the building my server, the hostess, and the bartender all called after me; thanking me for joining them for dinner, and asking me to come visit them again.

Oh yes, I’ll be back. I *will* be back.

Crazy Uncle David, you were right. The Hayward Ranch has awesome dinners, and I loved the place!

Thanks for everything, guys. I loved the Hayward Ranch. I can’t wait to eat dinner there again.

Who’s hungry?