The Capital Grille

We came to The Capital Grille on a Tuesday because the calendar was kinder than the weekend. The room was three-quarters full and somehow more honest for it.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: polished mahogany and oil portraits. 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: dry-aged sirloin, the dish that puts The Capital Grille on every short list. Was it the very best steak I have ever eaten? No. Was it among the dozen I think about most? Yes. The signature touch — the Stoli Doli at the bar — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for creamed spinach so rich it should embarrass us and asparagus with hollandaise. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was a slab of New York cheesecake, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

If you are passing through Boston, do not pass The Capital Grille by.