In my misspent youth I was a dee-jay for a very, very local radio station. One of the songs in our 45 rpm rotation was by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band called Blame it on Midnight (Shame on the Moon). Those two lines from that rock classic happen to be the name of two excellent restaurants here in the Coachella Valley of Southern California.
Last night we dined at Shame on the Moon in Rancho Mirage, just at the end of Frank Sinatra drive. It was not our first visit but reaffirmed our love of this place. Conveniently dark, slightly mysterious, red leatherette banquettes around the room, excellent wait staff, and even a celebrity sighting made for a memorable meal.
During "the summer" (anytime after the first of May and lasting through mid October) the place has a menu of three courses for $19.95. Choices are great: My wife had liver (her, but not my favorite) and I had American Kobe beef steak, along with sides and a salad. A small desert is the third course.
This is the kind of place that has server ESP: your glass of water is never empty, bread appears without asking, charger plates are there then when removed after you sit, linen is real linen both on the cloth and the napkins. Silverware is really silver, etc.
Highly recommended even if you've never had to hold a 45 for a cue on a felt-topped turntable. Ah, Blame it on Midnight....
Some men go crazy, some men go slow
Some men go just where they want
Some men never go
Oh, blame it on midnight
Ooh, shame on the moon