dining

Salvaged barn wood, weathered to a fine patina. A hostess stand behind an ancient baling press. Servers in crisp denim aprons. Are we really in Greenwood?

Booze lines are long, and mixed drinks take time. Be a hero and order beer.

The shrimp cocktail is very good—let’s get that out of the way. The real reason why downtown’s 113-year-old chophouse still thrives: It’s the steak.

The Midwestern-sourced beef stands on its own, thanks to the method Ruth’s Chris has carefully honed since 1965.

You can leave the coat and tie at home, and even show up in a sweatshirt if you like (just not one with a big “P” across the front).

A dramatic glassed-in wine closet spans an entire wall, like a Barney’s display window, and the female servers wear hemlines well above the knee.

People generally exhibit a “thermic response” when they put on the feedbag and could get similarly hot and bothered if they horked down a mountain of, say, carrots.

The biggest draw at this landmark eatery is its 32-ounce bone-in prime rib, a meltingly tender slab of beef rimmed in fat.

Morton’s has a little salt and pepper at the temples; the decor feels dated, and the vibe seems measured. But we consider the place distinguished.

Peter George’s new restaurant opens, and Erin Edds leaves Hoosier Momma.

If you don’t surrender your fork after the main course, try the towering chocolate cake: It practically hops into your mouth.

What’s the beef? This list of steak terms will have you in the know when at the market.

Mad Men–era charm for a special night out and steaks, which equally bewitch.

Including Milktooth’s signature Crunch Berry Cappuccino.

Purists, stand down. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a savory bearnaise sauce or a heap of shrimp scampi atop a fine steak.