Cattlemen's Steakhouse

It rained the whole afternoon I spent at Cattlemen's Steakhouse, and I cannot now imagine eating there in any other weather.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: Stockyards City, paper menus, lifers behind the counter. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with burrata with peaches and basil, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered an Oregon pinot, against the steak waiter's better judgement, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: t-bone, the dish that puts Cattlemen's Steakhouse on every short list. The crust was the colour of dark mahogany, and the inside was a confident, even pink the whole way through. The signature touch — lamb fries before the steak, every time — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for buttered haricots verts and thick-cut onion rings, stacked. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was vanilla ice cream with a shot of espresso poured over, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

It is not cheap. It is, in this case, worth it.