Cattlemen's Steakhouse

I had been meaning to get to Cattlemen's Steakhouse for years. I will not wait that long again.

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 grilled provoleta with chimichurri, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered a Burgundy that arrived too cold and rewarded patience, 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 hash browns the size of a hubcap and creamed spinach so rich it should embarrass us. 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.

I paid the bill, walked out into the Oklahoma City evening, and put the address back into the notebook with a star next to it.