Namesake's restaurant lives up to namesake's name

On a lark, I took my wife out to Bing Crosby's Restaurant and Piano Lounge way the hell over in Walnut Creek. It's a grueling 40 minute trek across the bridge and into the wilds of the East Bay, but I was overcome by curiousity about this establishment that bore my surname.

(NOTE: Upon further research, it turns out that Bing's is the latest concept from Dudum Sports Entertainment owner and serial-restaurateur Jeff Dudum, who also operates DiMaggio's, McCovey's, Havana, and co-owns Santana's Maria Maria restaurants.)

We found the restaurant nestled just off Walnut Creek's quaint center of downtown. For a reasonable six bucks, we valet parked and entered the large wooden front doors held open for us by a friendly, sharp-dressed doorman—not a bouncer, mind you, but a proper doorman.

Upon entering, we were greeted by '60s-era, Hollywood glamour. Black and white poster-sized photos of Bing and his crew adorned the fern-strewn walls. There were plush, circular booths, dark woods and lots of soaring heavy drapes—it felt like walking onto a Road Movie set, sans the monkeys.

I casually queried the young female Maître d' if we would get special consideration since Bing and I were “related.” Smiling graciously, she assured us that we were, more than likely, SOL. And, as if to drive the point home, she led us to a table...right outside the kitchen.

In no time, a perky blond waitress approached with menus and I, once again, attempted to get free stuff based solely on the coincidence of my heritage. Failing again, we ordered cocktails—pretty damn expensive, cocktails.

Hoisting the huge menus, we then perused the wide variety of meat, beef and steak. When our server arrived with the drinks, I ordered lamb—you know, just to be different. They had other entree options, but it felt wrong to eat healthfully.

The cocktails arrived shortly and were, despite my misgivings about the cost, spectacular. Not only were they delicious, they were strong, too. Now I've had a few drinks in my day, and I can say with great conviction that Bing himself—a man I've never met or spoken with—would've no doubt been proud to know that an establishment bearing his name didn't skimp on the happy juice.

By the time our entrees arrived, we had completely changed our tune about the prices. Personally, if a restaurant is expensive, it better be damn good. And this place, shockingly, stunningly, was. Now, as essentially an upscale, "themed" restaurant, it was no Jardinieire, but then, it was certainly no Rain Forest Cafe either.

The lamb made me forget about money altogether (or maybe that was the cocktail, I forget). It was so good that any fantasies I may have harbored about becoming a vegetarian melted away like...well, like tender, baby sheep on my salivating tongue.

Our waitress—a constant delight throughout the meal—tried to entice us with dessert, but we were surprisingly full (the portions weren't all that big). We were also more intent on putting the bartender through his paces instead, so we asked for the check, expecting the worst.

Yet, when she returned with the bill, we found that she had comped our drinks—a completely unnecessary, and extremely cool move. I've been to restaurants that wouldn't comp your drinks if they spilled them into your lap and set you on fire. And yet, for the price of two cocktails, she made our night and got her restaurant a favorable blog post on the web. They should give her a raise.

The bartender, it turned out, took his profession more seriously than a carnival knife-thrower with Parkinson's. Unlike most barkeeps you meet who use Tom Cruise's character in “Cocktail” as a benchmark, ours approached drink-making like a nuclear scientist handling Uranium-235. We ordered martinis and chatted him up while he whipped around creating alcoholic art in a glass, one after another for other patrons.

The piano lounge part of the restaurant included, not surprisingly, a piano, a piano player, and a somewhat overly dramatic singer who belted out jazz standards from the time period. Dressed in a floor-length satin gown, she lent an air of sophistication to the evening, and just the slightest touch of crazy.

Still, we hung around as long as time permitted, soaking up the atmosphere, the photographs, the music and the overall vibe, while polishing off a dessert the bartender insisted we try (which he then comped, too!). On the way out, we considered buying a hat like Bing wore, but I resisted the urge knowing that it would not have been cool.

Frankly, I had hoped that I wouldn't like Bing's Restaurant and Piano Lounge due to its inconvenient location, but no such luck. Bing's is a big, pricey, sprawling, meat-laced, pseudo-hipster hang-out that's trying to bring back a bygone era of cool. And while that's a pretty tall order in this modern world of cynicism and skepticism, in my opinion, Bing has another hit on his hands.