House of Prime Rib

Walking into House of Prime Rib 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: 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 shrimp cocktail with proper horseradish, 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: city cut prime rib, the dish that puts House of Prime Rib 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 — the spinning salad and the silver carving cart — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for pommes Anna 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 panna cotta with stewed cherries, 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.