Bavette's Steakhouse

Walking into Bavette's Steakhouse for the first time is a small piece of theatre, and that is before any food has arrived.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: dim French bistro by way of Las Vegas. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with chopped salad with too much bacon, exactly right, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered a quiet Brunello from the back of the list, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: bone-in filet, the dish that puts Bavette's Steakhouse on every short list. It was, frankly, the best version of this cut I have had this year. The signature touch — the steak frites and a martini at the bar — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for fried okra and a dab of remoulade and buttered haricots verts. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was key lime pie, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

If you are passing through Chicago, do not pass Bavette's Steakhouse by.