This may be the last article worth reading about American steak. Great beef will soon be so expensive and so difficult to obtain that the dishes on this list will be available to even fewer people than they already are.
American prime beef at its best is the finest in the world. It has more flavor than Argentine beef from cows free-ranging around the pampas; French Charolais, bred for tenderness since A.D. 878; or Italian beef from the Val di Chiana region, which goes into the famous bistecca alla fiorentina. These cows feed on grass, and the meat isn't aged after slaughter. Most American cattle feed on corn, which might not please your doctor, but it bulks up the cows and gives them a sweet flavor, with a rich marbling of fat and a minerality enhanced through long, careful aging.
The problem is that what distinguishes American beef is what's leading to its demise. Increasing world demand for corn and the continuing misguided adventure into ethanol have combined to drive up the price. Ten years ago, corn sold for an average of about two dollars a bushel; right now, it's above seven dollars -- a huge jump when you consider farm subsidies -- and seven pounds are required to produce a pound of beef. So if you're paying forty-five dollars for a prime strip at your favorite steakhouse now, next year it might cost you sixty. And that's assuming the ever-multiplying deluxe steakhouse chains can even get enough prime. Don't bank on it.
Which is why this article may be your last best chance to seek out and eat the best beef in the world, cut by cut, dish by dish. But I hope not.
A note on the compilation:
In naming America's best steaks, which are presented below by cut, I considered two main criteria:
- Diversity of preparation. I probably could have filled half the list with rib eyes from California, but that's no fun. I wanted porterhouse, strip, Italian, Cajun, Japanese-style, chicken-fried, churrascos -- steak in all its forms (even cheesesteak). Once I settled on a dish that fell into one of these essential categories, I pretty much moved on.
- Quality of meat. You will notice that the city of New York appears on the list far more than any other. This is due to the simple fact that most prime beef in this country -- and prime only accounts for about 2 percent of beef overall -- goes to New York steakhouses and restaurants. I can't help it.
Palm, New York City
16-Oz Prime New York Strip
On the side: Cottage fries
After eighty years, the original Palm -- not so much its twenty-eight branches from San Juan to West Hollywood -- still serves the finest of all cuts: the New York strip, on the bone, seared, broiled in a 1600-degree oven, caked with a perfectly smoky char every time. The place hasn't lost its raffishness from the days when cartoonists paid for food by decorating the walls. 837 Second Avenue; 212-687-2953; thepalm.com
Jess & Jim's, Kansas City, Missouri
KC Playboy Strip
On the side: Twice-baked one-and-a-half-pound Idaho potato
For about the first five seconds after you click on Jess & Jim's Website, you hear the Pavlovian sound of a steak sizzling on a griddle. Close your eyes and imagine you're hearing the KC Playboy Strip -- a 25-oz sirloin -- cooking. Next imagine eating it. If you are not within a one-hour drive of Jess & Jim's when you perform this exercise...well, that'll be unfortunate. 517 East 135th Street; 816-941-9499; jessandjims.com
The Prime Rib, Baltimore
Prime Rib
On the side: Fried potato skins
At the Prime Rib, it's always 1965 -- the year it opened. The leopard-print dining room looks like George Steinbrenner's private club. The waiters wear tuxes. You wear a jacket. And the kitchen roasts the majestic prime rib, on the bone, its collar of fat suffused into the inner layer, the core a rose red, all of it giving off the intoxicating aroma of old money. 1101 North Calvert Street; 410-539-1804; theprimerib.com
Andrea's, Metairie, Louisiana
Bistecca Alla Pizzaiola
On the side: Angel's hair spaghetti with garlic and olive oil
Andrea Apuzzo is from Capri, and he has an artist's sense for seasoning old-fashioned dishes like this one, a thick sautéed rib eye doused with a spicy tomato-garlic sauce. Like the best Italian dishes, its simple parts add up to an unexpectedly powerful whole. 3100 Nineteenth Street; 504-834-8583; andreasrestaurant.com
Peter Luger, Brooklyn
Porterhouse
On the side: German fried potatoes
The place ain't much to look at, but man, there's a reason for the fame. It's the beef. Even Luger's competitors admit this institution (1887) serves the greatest of all porterhouses, each carcass handpicked by a Luger rep. Don't believe the ex-employees who've opened steakhouses and claim to get the same quality. And when Luger's can't get enough good steaks, it simply cuts back on reservations, which are already maddeningly difficult to get. 178 Broadway; 718-387-7400; peterluger.com
Sammy's Roumanian, New York City
Roumanian Tenderloin
On the side: Potato pancakes
Somehow a Michelin star has eluded Sammy's, but what's not to like? You sit in a basement listening to borscht-belt-style music, there's seltzer and schmaltz (chicken fat) on the table, and the tenderloin skirt steak with minced garlic is gargantuan. The waiters like to kibbitz, and they've heard it all. 157 Chrystie Street; 212-673-0330
Macelleria, New York City
T-Bone
On the side: Cannellini beans
In Manhattan's obnoxiously fashionable Meatpacking District, the Bitici family quietly serves soulful takes on Italian tradition. But everything is an ornate sideshow next to a fabulous T-bone that comes as close as possible to the Florentine lombata, glossed with olive oil and served with lemon. 48 Gansevoort Street; 212-741-2555; macelleriarestaurant.com
El Raigón, San Francisco
Skirt Steak
On the side: Calabaza pisada (mashed squash)
Argentine steakhouses can be exercises in sheer gluttony, but El Raigón's focus is on reproducing the true flavors of South America--morcilla (blood sausage), mollejas (sweetbreads), and a smoky entraña, or skirt steak, cooked over charcoal and smothered with chimichurri. 510 Union Street; 415-291-0927; elraigon.com
Steak Frites, New York City
Steak Frites
On the side: Grilled asparagus
You name your restaurant Steak Frites, you better get this one right. They do. The steak: perfectly chewy, with the mineraly iron-and-calcium taste characteristic of the hanger cut. The frites: crispy outside, tasting of nothing but hot potato inside. 225 Varick Street; 212-463-7101; steakfritesnyc.com
Churrascos, Houston
Churrascos
On the side: Yuca fries
Michael Cordúa brought churrascos to Houston twenty years ago, and he still sets the bar for these juicy, charred slabs of center-cut tenderloin laced with spicy chimichurri and served with salty-sweet, fresh-from-the-fryer plantain chips. 2055 Westheimer Road; 713-527-8300; cordua.com
Smith & Wollensky, New York City
Filet Mignon
On the side: Creamed spinach
Women love filet mignon for the same reason I don't: It's not laden with fat. But I have to admit S&W's is the best you'll ever taste. They serve it grilled or au poivre, with Gorgonzola, crabmeat, or Cajun spices. Or, if you want, blessedly plain. 797 Third Avenue; 212-753-1530; smithandwollensky.com
Fleur de Lys, San Francisco
Tournedos Rossini
On the side: Pommes dauphinois (potatoes with cream, garlic, and a crust of baked cheese)
A filet mignon is good plain. But it's also good when it is layered with seared, pink foie gras, so that the flavor and softness of the fatted liver mingles with the hot blood juices of the beef and the woodsy essence of a sauce périgourdine, made with red wine, truffles, and more foie gras. 777 Sutter Street; 415-673-7779; fleurdelyssf.com
One If by Land Two If by Sea, New York City
Beef Wellington
On the side: Morels, asparagus, and baby leeks
A new Aussie chef, Craig Hopson, has transformed this warhorse of a dish -- filet of beef in a bubble of airy puff pastry -- by adding a silky foie gras sabayon and keeping the crust golden crisp so the meat never gets steamy. 17 Barrow Street; 212-228-0822; oneifbyland.com
Paris Coffee Shop, Fort Worth, Texas
Chicken-Fried Steak
On the side: Mashed potatoes and cream gravy
There's no resisting the conceit of a dish like chicken-fried steak, which begins with a lesser cut of meat that's pounded into oblivion. Once tenderized, it's battered and deep-fried, and comes out a minor wonder of everyman cuisine. The Paris, a booth-and-counter diner, is the kind of place to eat it. Preferably followed by a slice of warm custard pie. 700 West Magnolia Avenue; 817-335-2041
Benihana, Las Vegas
Teppanyaki Steak
On the side: Vegetable tempura
The tableside pyrotechnics are fun -- or at least they were when you were ten -- but Benihana? For the food? Yes, Benihana for the food. The miraculous teppanyaki flat griddle instantly sears the high-quality meat, which remains rare inside while the chef finishes off the onions before your eyes with that slapdash spatula. A little sake, a couple of Kirins, you're having fun. 3000 Paradise Road; 702-732-5334; benihana.com
Lawry's the Prime Rib, Beverly Hills
English Cut
On the side: Baked potato
They wheel over your English cut -- three long, thin slices of beef that melt on your tongue -- on a silver cart, because that's the way they've served it since 1938. Add a baked potato with butter, bacon, chives, and sour cream and you can't eat better in L.A. 100 North La Cienega Boulevard; 310-652-2827; lawrysonline.com
Kobe Club, New York City
Japanese Waygu Beef
On the side: Hash browns with lobster, chorizo, and crème fraîche
People still speak of Kobe beef in tones of awe and trepidation -- "They massage the cows and feed them beer, you know" -- but this is the place where you pretend you're rich and just go for it. Order the Emperor's Flight of filet, sirloin, and rib eye ($395 for two, plus, oddly, $2 for extra sauce), which you'll enjoy sitting under the couple thousand samurai swords hanging from the ceiling. 68 West Fifty-eighth Street; 212-644-5623; kobeclubny.com
Oak Steakhouse, Charleston
Cajun-Blackened New York
On the side: Gorgonzola cottage fries
Chef Brett McKee never saw a plate he couldn't fill, and his spicy sirloin is as generous as they come. The beef is ennobled by Creole crawfish butter that slowly melts over the beef, revealing the delicious little mudbugs and making a rich, spicy dish rich, spicy, and sweet. 17 Broad Street; 843-722-4220; oaksteakhouserestaurant.com
Cut, Beverly Hills
Steak Tartare
On the side: Soft polenta with Parmesan
I never touch steak tartare unless I'm sure of the provenance -- inferior raw meat can be disgusting and, you know, fatal -- but at Wolfgang Puck's Beverly Hills steakhouse (Esquire's Best New Restaurant, 2006), I'm always safe and happy. It's good in a primordial, carnivorous way, yet the addition of herb aioli and mustard makes it feel like the most civilized dish in the world. 9500 Wilshire Boulevard; 310-276-8500; wolfgangpuck.com
Pat's, Philadelphia
Philly Cheesesteak
On the side: Cheese fries
Pat's added Cheez Wiz to the Philly cheesesteak -- that much we know. It's also the most credible of those claiming to have invented the sandwich itself. After sixty years it remains greasy beyond redemption and probably not so good for you. So eat only one. Get the second one to go. 1237 East Passyunk Avenue; 215-468-1546; patskingofsteaks.com
