Immaculate Infatuation

Many of us tri-state area Jews have fond memories of summer camp. We’re shipped off into the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania to learn how to fend for ourselves. Being peer pressured into pulling pranks, lighting firecrackers, smoking weed and of course, going on bunk raids to steal all the girls bras and proudly display for the world to see. Indian Head Camp provided me with plenty of firsts, most of which involved an education in the female anatomy. In between over the shirt boobie grabs and quick, awkward saliva exchanges, there was one particular first I’ll never forget. My first exposure to Peter Luger’s steak sauce. That’s right. Luger’s sauce.

One summer, I was assigned a little brother to mentor for what was called “Dream Week”. Turned out, this kid was completely and utterly obsessed with Peter Luger’s and their steak sauce. Most kids roll to camp with a sleeping bag and a couple of fresh packs of Hanes, this fat little 8-year-old came with steak sauce. Tons of it. He had special permission to keep a huge bin under his bed and bring it to the dining hall to dump on whatever was in front of him. Cheerios and Luger’s sauce? Let’s rock. I owe this little dude much gratitude. It’s because of him I came home that summer asking about Peter Luger’s. From that summer on, Peter Luger became a fixture in the Steinthal family rotation.

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First and foremost, the popovers at BLT Prime are the single greatest table bread ever – hands down, no contest. These hollow, softball sized treats are warm and doughy on the inside, with a hard pretzel-like shell outside. Served with whipped butter and sea salt, they’re an unbeatable first impression and deserve first ink in this review. As a bonus, Prime includes a small recipe card, welcoming others to attempt to recreate them at home.

My love for BLT Prime grows deeper with every visit. Although it completely destroys your wallet, Prime is an ideal venue for annual celebrations. You get the vibe that everyone is genuinely excited about the meal they’re about to eat. The crowd is buzzing with return customers, most of them young, lower Manhattan types wearing jeans and button downs who prefer BLT Prime’s modern take on the steakhouse to the more traditional spots uptown. In other words, this is not your grandfather’s steakhouse. Prime serves only the best in beef, with all their cuts being either USDA Prime or Certified Black Angus. All beef is naturally dry aged in an in-house dry aging room which you see when you walk in. Let the drooling begin. Bonus points to Prime for serving every single hot dish in its own cast iron skillet. Personal pans are underrated.

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Should we have arrived on this earth centuries earlier, Immaculate Infatuation would have existed as an exclusive dining club instead of an internet circle jerk. Being added to the Infatuation telegram list back then would have been even cooler than being an “ambassador” at The Gates (that was a joke). Every suspenders wearing, pipe smokin’, handlebar mustache rockin’ 19th century hipster would have wanted in on our action. Our home base in this amazing, hypothetical world? Keens.

Keens is as Old New York as you can get. Open since 1885, this place is loaded with history. It’s pretty much the Museum of Natural Meat Eating History. Before it was open to the public, Keens was a members only hangout; a Soho House of sorts for NYC’s most powerful including Teddy Roosevelt and Babe Ruth. 115 years and counting, Keens is still home to one of this city’s best steaks. So good in fact, it’s in our top five NYC steakhouses along with Luger’s, Striphouse, Dylan Prime and Quality Meats.

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We’re not alone in loving Strip House. The New York Times just dropped two stars on it, and the review was mostly on-point…but it just didn’t really get to the heart of why we like the place so much. The steaks are definitely great, and sides like goose fat potatoes and black truffle creamed spinach make us very happy as they slowly narrow the path of blood to our heart. But we also like the place for the simple fact that it’s just about the only steakhouse town that isn’t either full of grandpas, dudes wearing blackberry holsters, or rude made-for-TV Italian waiters. Strip House is a vibey downtown bordello of goodness, and is the antithesis to the things we hate about a place like Sparks or The Palm (AKA upscale Applebee’s). When you’re in need of a Damn Good Steak, but want something a little sexier than Luger’s, Strip House should be your stop. You might wait a little while, even with a reservation, but it’s worth it. This is one of the best steaks in town.

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A loyal reader recently reached out to us on our Facebook page with a great point: we need a Damn Good Steaks tag. Damn right we do. Thanks Valerie. So it shall be.

There aren’t all that many steakhouses that meet our Infatuation standards for high quality and low quantity of business class asshats. Quality Meats is one of those places, and is precisely why we needed this new tag. Even though it’s in Midtown, this multi-level meat market serves up one of our favorite steaks in town, and it’s not what you might expect from a steakhouse in the area. Though they aren’t nearly on the same level, Quality Meats has a downtown aesthetic in the vein of Gramercy’s BLT Prime, just a little louder and heavier on the testosterone. This definitely isn’t a quiet dinner over a steak. This is where you kick off your bachelor party. You’re going to Abe & Arthur’s after aren’t you? She’s a lucky girl.

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