What Makes A Great Steakhouse Experience?

It has to be dark, like you’re underground. Eating red meat is such a basic, instinctive act that the darkness like in the bedroom helps you give in to pleasure without holding back.

The Entertainment

There must be a pianist with a bad hairstyle singing Neil Diamond. Or a duo with a female lounge singer and a guitar player doing their best K.C. impression.

Even Edmund White described someone like this in A Boy’s Own Story, when his family took him to a steakhouse:

“A place where overweight people ate iceberg salad under a dressing made of ketchup, mayonnaise, and A.1. Steaks underneath A.1. The corn was served with butter and chocolate sauce. A man in a black toupee, wearing a sports jacket and a toupee, bounced up and down at the electric organ, while a couple danced before him.”

The Bread Basket

A bread basket like the one shown here is essential.

This basket, delivered on a Saturday evening at Chops Lobster Bar, had warm onion rolls and raisin toast, fresh from the oven. My family was celebrating my 30th birthday a week early in Boca Raton.

The Waiter

He should be quick and know your usual drink if you’re a regular. He should be patient with your grandmother who orders her iced tea with “very little—very cold” ice.

Mo has served my family in Boca steakhouses for over 10 years. Here he is with Mom and Dad.

As a gift for my 30th birthday, Mo brought me his favorite Merlot to pair with my best steak. It was fantastic:

Thanks, Mo.

The Salad

A wedge salad is a must. It’s a wedge of iceberg lettuce with blue cheese dressing, tomatoes, and if possible, bacon.

This is a treat, no doubt. The kind of indulgence you don’t think about when pretending you eat healthy.

The Sides

There must be sides—outrageous sides. Piles of fried potatoes and bowls of creamed corn.

At 9 o’clock: what looks like a huge hashbrown—shredded potatoes fried into a big pancake with Parmesan.

At 6 o’clock: buttery, creamy string beans (ignore the butter—it’s still a vegetable, right?).

At 12 o’clock: more fried potatoes.

In the middle: all the toppings for my brother’s and his fiancée’s baked potatoes.

This kind of feast isn’t encouraged, but it’s what a steakhouse is all about.

The Steak

Of course, there must be steak—a juicy, smoky chunk of meat served plain on a white plate.

This is a small filet mignon, which was enough for me. It looks almost burnt, but that’s the point. High heat creates a caramelized crust that adds flavor and texture. It’s seasoned just right—with enough salt.

Anyone who loves steak will order it this way. If you didn’t, please don’t tell me. I won’t think of you the same.

The Dessert

Dessert must include chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream.

The cake should be warm with a gooey center. If it’s your birthday, they should light a candle. If they really love you, they’ll bring cheesecake, too.

The Food Coma

As my brother shows here, all this food will put you in a deep, thoughtful mood.

The coffee should be hot and strong. It’s the final note of the night, and it has to be perfect.

The Ending

You should end the meal the way you feel after finishing a 1,000-page novel. A great steakhouse isn’t Charlotte’s Web, it’s Anna Karenina.

You should look warm and happy in the final photo.

Maybe I was thinking about the economy or my final week in my 20s. Either way, I felt satisfied—deeply full—as Marilyn Monroe tried to eat my head.

A great steakhouse can have that kind of impact.