I’ve had a real taste for steak, lately. I don’t know what it is about colder weather that brings out the carnivore in me, but it does. Maybe it’s the thought of a juicy steak sizzling on a hot grill that makes me think warm thoughts, much like the DVD of a roaring fireplace that’s been in constant rotation in my house has tricked my brain into thinking it hasn’t been quite as cold as it’s been this winter (which is, technically, on its way out in just a couple of days). Perhaps it’s the smell of food-smoke that evokes the hazy bliss of late-afternoon summer cookouts. Regardless, it has been my intent for weeks now to get back down to one of the local pubs for a sirloin steak dinner.
The outdoor patio at Moody’s Pub. Saturday, February 2, 2013.
Moody’s Pub is a neighborhood institution that has been open since 1959, straight from that era of Mid-Century architecture where nature met the future. Its website describes its interior ambiance as being reminiscent of a ski lodge, which it sort of does resemble. To me, it much more evokes the memories of the (non-Ponderosa/Bonanza) steak houses and roadside restaurants of my youth. There’s the exposed wood beams and paneling. The backlit stained glass fixtures. Two little fireplaces. Freestanding chairs and also a banquette set into a private alcove, all upholstered in classy, shiny red vinyl.
Inside at Moody’s. Saturday, May 26, 2012.
There’s also the near inability to see for a few minutes once you enter from the outside, given how dimly lit it is. Moody’s fits right into the mold of the old-school supper clubs that dotted the upper Midwest, particularly Wisconsin and parts of Michigan. The only thing that’s missing to complete the total childhood throwback experience is choking on secondhand cigarette smoke, though the old air purifier (no longer needed in Chicago after 2008, when no-smoking laws went widely into effect) is still mounted in the ceiling.
It’s within this setting that I had discovered, two years ago, one of the most delicious, satisfying sirloin steak dinners I had eaten in years – which included a big salad and giant, thick-cut steak fries. I went back to Moody’s last summer to order the same thing and, lo and behold, the steak dinner is available only on their “winter menu”. Fail. The clock is ticking, so I need to get back there soon to get my fix.
Long before anyone had thought or heard of Cadillac’s “Art & Science” design language, there was the very first Eldorado personal luxury coupe. This one was parked outside of Moody’s, which I thought at the time couldn’t have been more fitting or era-appropriate. As far as car styling is concerned, I’ve been on an angular, linear kick of late, as evidenced by my fondness for the ’68 Plymouth Fury III I had featured last week. It’s true that trends are cyclical, and I think it’s important to have a range of tastes in rotation, regardless of how often or infrequently the cycle will repeat itself. Life is more fun when you mix things up.
The first FWD Eldorados have been covered here at CC before, and I’ve included links to a few of those articles, below. I think it is an appropriate metaphor to think of the Eldorado as having been sort of a fancy “steak knife” in the silverware drawer of the personal luxury offerings of the day. I’ll start off with a few facts. The nearly top-shelf $6,600 ($47,800 / adjusted for 2019) ’68 Eldorado sold about 24,500 copies that year, up from about 17,900 of the first-year ’67s. This ’68 production figure is just over a third less than the 33,800 Escalades flagships that Cadillac sold in the U.S. in 2018, starting at base price of about $74,700 (albeit, with many standard features the ’68 Eldorado simply didn’t have).
All 1968 Cadillacs came standard with a 375-hp 472 cubic inch V8, which made the Eldorado good for a 0-60 time of just under 12 seconds, according to a vintage review. Its portly 4,600-pound starting curb weight probably contributed to its not-exceptional 0-60 time, but it could clearly get out of its own way. By comparison, a 2017 Escalade Platinum had a starting weight of about 5,600 pounds, and equipped with a 6.2L (376 cubic inch) V8 with 420 hp, the newer vehicle could hit sixty in about half that time. The Esky is also the much safer vehicle.
However, this isn’t meant to be a comparison between old and new Cadillacs, so let’s move on and get back to the kitchen and silverware drawer. As I had started to say, the Eldorado is definitely the steak knife of the personal luxury cars. With a razor-edged style with just enough “serration” around its leading edge to leave a fast and deep impression, the Eldorado’s look cuts through your retinas with gravitas worthy of its marque. Even its taillamps resemble blades. It possesses a geometric look done correctly, with just enough curves present to provide relief and keep it from looking too scientific. And like a good steak, its rear is also thick and juicy. Yum.
What other “utensils” are in that drawer? Ooooo… the Toronado. By ’68, El Toro still sported its curvy, uninterrupted, flowing fastback roofline (for the last year). Sporting a less-sleek but still attractive split grille up front, the Toronado’s new face gave it a bit of extra bite – which I understand is polarizing, given the purity of the 1966 and ’67 designs. Still, I’m a sucker for a full pout, and I like the ’68 Toronado’s face. I’m going with “soup spoon” for the Olds, given its swoopy, scoopy side-profile and the larger dimensions of this type of spoon, which requires one to open wide – like the grille on this Olds.
The Lincoln Continental Mark III is the dinner fork. Just as the Roman numeral “III” resembles the tines on said utensil, the fork is arguably the fussiest-looking piece of metal on the table. Versus the zen-like elegance of a butter knife or a spoon, the fork, while still a beautiful object, wants only just to stab things. From the Mark’s Rolls Royce-aping radiator grill, to its humped trunklid, the Mark very clearly wants you to know it has few facets to its identity – all luxury, no sport, and all business.
That leaves us with the Ford Thunderbird and Buick Riviera. I know I recently likened both the four-door configuration and color of a ’68 Thunderbird to salsa verde, but within the context of the silverware drawer, and referring to the sedan, I’m going with chopsticks. I, for one, cannot understand how anyone could not like Chinese food. I mean, technically, I could, since to each his or her own. However, I do have friends who simply do not like to eat things that are anything but basic, which can make things tricky when finding a place for all of us to eat. Some folks simply didn’t “get” the Thunderbird sedan, but for those who did, they were rewarded with a somewhat exotic, novel experience that even came equipped with coach doors.
As for the Eldorado’s platform-mate E-Body Riviera, Flint’s approach has always been understated luxury for fancy people who didn’t want others to know they thought of themselves as fancy. With that said, the gorgeous ’68 Riv is probably the butter knife – sleek, curvy, and smooth as Land-O-Lakes.
I’ve probably taken this metaphor as far as it can go (what’s left in that silverware drawer?), and I’m starting to get hungry, but I hope I’ve successfully left you with the impression that our featured car was a feast of visual delights. Also, just as the personal luxury car has passed into history, and with as many things that have changed in my neighborhood in the decade-plus that I’ve lived here, I am going to do my part to support local businesses and enjoy their old-school flavor while they’re still around. Bon appetit.
Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois.
Thursday, June 30, 2011.
Click on the following links for related reading from GN, Phoenix, and myself.
The gorgeous green-blue metallic paint on the Eldo in the lead photos … or something like it … is my favorite car color. To me it looks good on anything. But it seems to have had few takers and in these days of anonymous leaser BMW silver-grey there isn’t much chance of its reappearance.
It was among the color palette of the Chrysler PT Cruiser when they were selling like hotcakes, and a CC author even bought one and featured it in a post. But not enough sold, and Chrysler dropped the color after only one year.
I agree – it’s an outstanding colour. I wonder why people stopped buying nice colours like that – here in the UK the norm is silver or black or, worst of all, a ghastly, ghostly pale grey that looks like glossy primer.
Another fine essay, Joseph.
Occasionally driving my son’s 2013 Mustang V-6, I miss the PLC. They were a fine conveyance for 1 or 2 people to do most of life’s business in. The modern Mustang’s size isn’t far from the PLCs of yore – makes me wish Ford would stretch it into a Thunderbird.
I’ve settled on 1968 as the year I’d pick if I were to buy a vintage Eldorado. It perfected a few quirks of the 1967, most notably the odd fillers in the end of the front fender blades that became parking lights in 1968. The move to hideaway wipers and the simple but deft addition of the mandatory rear side marker lights make it the perfect Eldorado for me.
I’m not inclined to go for a big hunk of red meat very often, but occasionally it hits the spot, especially from a vintage family owned steakhouse. These seem much easier to find in smaller towns where Texas Roadhouse isn’t likely to locate.
Last August, I was lucky to not lose my wife in a car accident where an Infinity SUV blew a stop sign, destroying our mint, low milage 2018 Fusion Titanium. We were violently thrown into the car market.
As long time Ford buyers, we’ve eyed Lincolns occasionally, and finally did it. Through the magic of depreciation, and help from the internet, we found a 2022 Lincoln Nautilus in Flight Blue in Denver that checked our boxes. Burning some points, we flew from Omaha to Denver to buy it, and settled in on the long drive home.
We had dinner at the Pepper Pod in Hudson, Colorado. Pepper was the name of the family that started it in 1913. We celebrated with steaks, and iced tea as we were driving on to North Platte for the night.
After some rough weeks making sure my wife was okay, and battling with insurance, a Saturday night celebration at a steakhouse with a luxury ride home seemed as fitting in 2024 as it might have in 1968.
Were I to pick one car from 1950 forward, it would be a triple black ’68 Eldorado. Not for the “look at me, I have arrived” mind set, but just for its gorgeous looks,
Dave B. hit the nail on the head concerning quirks.
To me a properly prepared pork steak is about as good as it gets. Unfortunately, corporate farming has destroyed once natural flavoring in most everything.
It’s hard to believe that less than a decade separates the Batmobile 1959 model from our feature car. As mentioned by Buck Stradler ,“Where are these colors today?” I’d pay a premium for them.
I know back then large physical size and scale, a big car, remained a sign of prestige and wealth.
As the 1969 Grand Prix and 1970 Monte Carlo maintained similar-looks, in a more manageably-sized package. It’s the gargantuan-scale of these, that appears a big part of their appeal, for some people. As all the styling elements could have been projected on a slightly smaller platform.
The 79-85 models were downsized and again carried crisp lines.
Count be as a super fan of the 1968 Eldo. As previously mentioned by Dave B. I prefer all the little tweaks done after the 1967 model. I am also a fan of the teal colors and if buying a 1968 Eldo today I would be hard pressed to choose between a blue/green teal and one of Cadillacs beautiful reds. Cadillac could always do reds like no other. Either color with white interior and no vinyl top would be my choice. If I didn’t already have a passion for convertibles like my 1966 T-Bird, I would be shopping for a 1968 Eldo to restore.
Talking about red meats brought back memories. Growing up in an Air Force family we moved frequently. One of the first things Dad would find is a butcher and we always had a separate freezer for meats. Dad was excellent with grilling and I have never had grilled thick cut pork chops like he could make. In the 1980s-90s I drove many miles on I-95 between NYC and going or coming somewhere South. Think it was the Maryland exit to Aberdeen Proving Grounds where there was a Ponderosa / Bonanza where I always stopped for a steak meal. I have always thought about that exit to Aberdeen as Dad was stationed there in the late 1950s but it was an army base and Dad was Air Force. We lived in DC Georgetown which I still find odd. When I try to find out places I lived as a child, military still tells me its classified. Something I remember like yesterday was being woken up in the middle of the night, rushing to a train to Chicago with Mom and brother. I cried because Dad wasn’t coming with us. But the train was wonderful for an eight year old.
Thank you Joseph for a trip through the wonderful world of late ’60’s Personal Luxury Coupes. During this time they were part of the high end market and it wouldn’t be for another decade before they were available from the “popularly priced” makes.
Cars like the Eldo were also always associated in my mind with higher priced, non chain brand steak houses. Not that I had any personal experiences with such establishments in my childhood. There was such a steakhouse/lounge in San Jose, at the Junction of US101 and Highway 17, (now referred to as I880) called 17 West. I used to see commercials about this place aired on San Jose UHF TV station KICU 36 during the late 1960’s. The dark interior had coved booths, as well as tables, and of course a long bar. It looked pretty ritzy to my twelve year old mind, I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to patronize an establishment as fine as that! By the time I had moved to San Jose in the 1980’s it was no longer in business. The restaurant closed sometime in the 1970’s, (I think), then was reborn as an Asian buffet, then was ultimately torn down for condos.
Maybe I can still make it to the Bay 101 Casino/Club. It’s pretty fancy, from what I’ve seen. Though these places don’t feature the healthy cuisine that I restrict myself to now.
PLCs were all about the dramatic styling and fancy interiors. The buyers bought them for the style, most could afford a big luxury coupe from Cadillac or Lincoln, but they chose the PLC to showcase their personal style. I really miss this type of car because they were what I aspired to own. They did have qualities that made them rewarding, as they were very powerful, comfortable, quiet, and smooth. My current ’97 Riviera is actually a pretty good example of the genre, except that the interior ambiance is a bit too downscale and plasticky.
Current Lincoln models, like the Nautalis and Aviator, seem to project the proper interior ambiance, sleek styling, and more “personal use” intentions of the old PLCs.
The pictured El Dorado, for what it’s worth, has 67 hubcaps on it. 68 hubcaps were flat without slots
Excellent article. Beautiful car. I pine for the beautiful cars made when I was young.
Comparing the ’68 Cadillac Fleetwood Eldorado in Silverpine Green with a current (Cadillac) Escalade is akin to comparing a beautiful young woman with eye-catching curves (the Eldorado) to a 65 year old wannabe (the Escalade) pretending she is still age 20. I don’t care that the Escalade is safer or faster than the Eldorado … compared to the Eldorado, the Escalade is ugly. The difference is stark. There is nothing in the current line of General Motors vehicles that makes me want to hurry out and buy one. General Motors was once run by car people who knew how to design and build beautiful, well-made cars. No more.
Is it any wonder that Cadillac’s sales, and more importantly, its reputation, is but a faint shadow of what it once was. GM lost the magic in 1971; it is long gone.
Looking at today’s designs and the use of corporate powertrains, I don’t think GM, Cadillac or any other US car manufacturer will get the mojo back in the foreseeable future. The bean counters; i.e. the Roger Smiths; won the battle but they killed GM in the process. Look no further than the current “gm” logo.
I thought for sure when I read the headline for this article that it would in some way tie into Glengarry Glen Ross, in which Alec Baldwin announces a sales contest where first prize is a Cadillac El Dorado, second prize a set of steak knives, and third prize is “you’re fired”.
Thanks, everyone. What’s funny is that in the six years (or however long it has been) since this one was recently dusted off for a rerun, I’ve given up red meat altogether. That’s not to say I absolutely wouldn’t eat another steak. Cholesterol control was the reason.
The Code 30 Silverpine Green 1968 Eldorado is rolling art. The difference to draw an analogy to food might be. The Eldorado is fine dining and the Escalade is drive thru at McDonald’s.