House of Prime Rib

I have eaten in a lot of dining rooms that try this hard. House of Prime Rib is one of the few that pulls it off without looking like it is trying.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: Van Ness landmark, unchanged since 1949. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with country pâté with cornichons, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered an Argentine malbec the waiter chose for me, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: city cut prime rib, the dish that puts House of Prime Rib on every short list. It was, frankly, the best version of this cut I have had this year. The signature touch — the spinning salad and the silver carving cart — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for fried okra and a dab of remoulade and wild mushrooms in butter. 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.

Some places earn their reputation. House of Prime Rib earns it twice over.