Add another ambitious new steakhouse to this year’s stampede: Desmond’s, a 247-seat, 8,000 square-footer coming soon to a former OTB site at 515 Seventh Ave. at 38th Street. It’s by far the biggest project from owner Paul Hurley, who runs five Irish-themed bars and restaurants around town.
Like most of the new entries, Desmond’s takes its beef seriously. (And like all of them, it’s at the mercy of post-hurricane conditions for its opening date.)
Hurley says he’s buying from New Jersey’s Strassburger Meats and, “We’ll be involved every step of the way — election of stock and their feed from the most environmentally responsible and humane producers to the initial aging process and final aging in our own on-site facility.”
Nine cuts will range from a 12-ounce strip at $39 to a 74-ounce porterhouse for six at $186. A wraparound bar and a deco-esque staircase leading to an elaborate raw bar will evince Hurley’s $2 million investment.
Desmond’s is just one of many upcoming, big-bucks steakhouse launches in a town that only thinks the dining scene is about far-out cuisines and tiny places where a 12-seat counter is the altars to a chef’s ego.
The new entries come in every genetic stripe: Stephen Hanson’s BR Guest just launched a huge Strip House at 155 W. 44th St. modeled on the East 12th Street original.
Scenemakers will flock soon to Arlington Steakhouse at 1032 Lexington Ave. (73rd Street), a bold entry from the great chef Laurent Tourondel and Tao Group. For the tradition-minded there’s Delmonico’s
Kitchen, hoping to bow on Monday at 207 W. 36th St. — the first uptown venture from the owners of the historic original on Pearl Street.
Those who take comfort in national brands may choose Vic & Anthony’s, which recently opened at 233 Park Avenue South.
Don’t 1,000-odd new steakhouse seats make a trend? Not if you get your spin from the food media, which mostly regard steakhouses as news only when they close.
The loss of Ben Benson was sad, but it must be viewed in the context of the bigger picture. So should a shutdown in January of Gallagher’s after 85 years — possible, but by no means inevitable as the owners try to sell it. (And how many restaurants of another kind last 85 years?)
It’s not exactly a secret that steakhouses are an indispensable, historic pillar of New York dining. Yet it’s impermissible in fancy culinary circles to admit they’re what customers want more than anything else.
Hype (and cranky critics like me) aside, most steak lovers couldn’t care less whether the beef is wet- or dry-aged; supplied by DeBragga or LaFrieda; corn- or grass-fed; or whether a place is one-of-a-kind or part of a 50-outlet empire. I’m baffled by the crowds at Ruth’s Chris, where dishes taste more of butter than of beef — but to deny they’re there is to deny reality.
Other kinds of restaurants — even Japanese — outnumber steakhouses in the Zagat Survey, but it’s misleading. Where many Japanese spots have 50 seats or fewer, most steakhouses have 200 or more. And many beeferies listed only once have several huge locations — Bobby Van’s, Wolfgang’s, Ben & Jack, The Palm and STK among others.
Beef joints are so taken for granted that guides don’t recognize some of them. Neither Zagat nor menupages.com lists huge Knickerbocker Bar & Grill on University Place as a steakhouse. Yet that’s exactly what the hugely popular Village institution is, with a menu built around a formidable lineup of “butcher’s cuts” and T-bones in numerous sizes.
Detractors of newer steakhouses — I’ve been among them — should acknowledge that the craving for beef by a more sophisticated clientele has raised the bar across the board.
Marvelous cuts of fancy ranch-raised or aged beef have made their way to restaurants which aren’t even steakhouses — such as Balthazar, Babbo and the Lambs Club. At the Upper East Side’s T-Bar Steak and Lounge — which, like most spots, offers a ton of non-beef dishes — the aged strip and bone-in rib-eye rival those at most of the “name” places.
Times of London critic A.A. Gill wrote in Vanity Fair that the Michelin Guide is “wholly out of touch with the way people actually eat.” He’s right, but so is New York’s entire culinary-promotional complex out of touch.
A Martian might glean that what New Yorkers want above all else are 12-seat joints requiring reservations made nine months in advance for the pleasure of consuming 20 tiny courses for $250.
But as Hanson sees it, “Twelve-seat places are the darlings of reviewers. They like to cut their teeth on them. But most of the world loves steak.”
So does most of New York.