Michael C.
Yelp
The gate attendant on duty at 7:30pm on October 21 thought it was a hilarious prank that our GPS, working from the address on the Osage Restaurant web page, took us not to the restaurant, but to Big Cedar Lodge, forcing us to backtrack in the dark over that entrance road's unlit collection of blind hills and curves, until we finally found the actual entrance to the restaurant.
"Well you know, that goofy GPS, nobody EVER trusts that, not our fault, hahaha," the gate attendant said, instead of, "Sorry about the trouble, I'll let my boss know that the Osage address should be on the restaurant's front page, not buried behind it."
Then she charged us the ten-dollar penalty for not booking an overpriced room at the Big Greeder Lodge, which earned us the privilege of driving up the hill to Osage and paying another $20-plus-tip to have our car parked for approximately 60 minutes. Thirty bucks so far, and we haven't eaten a bite.
The Center Cut Filet with Stilton Cheese was perfect. The Mushroom Bolognese was a pound of sauce-laden noodles containing the fragments of approximately two-and-a-half actual mushrooms. They were hiding in there somewhere, and it became a game to find them.
Then we got the bill. I had asked for a single large ice cube in my scotch-rocks. They charged me a dollar for it. I'm not kidding. I'd provide a picture of the receipt, but I didn't think to save the itemized portion of it.
Here's the thing: when the sun goes down, Osage is just another steak house, but one that costs $10 to enter, $20+ to park, and $1 for 3.5 cubic inches of frozen water, in a pretentious atmosphere laden with (toxic?) wood-fired oven smoke and smug staff. If that's your thing, great. I prefer my steak without the greed-spiced topping and pretentious au jus.