The Insiders' Guide to St. Barths: Peter Lugers?

Here it is in full:

The New York Times

September 19, 2007
The Original Master of Blood and Butter
By FRANK BRUNI

THE restaurant Peter Luger has been around for an astonishing 120 years. None of them have paid it the kind of tribute that the last five have.

One after another, Luger clones have opened, operated by former Luger cooks or managers or waiters, all of whom trumpet their association with it, all of whom appropriate its traditions. Any day now I expect a news release announcing that a Con Ed worker who checked Luger’s meter is starting a steakhouse, and I expect the menu to spotlight porterhouses for two, three or four, served with butter and blood pooling beneath them, reminiscent of the porterhouses at Luger.

If imitation is indeed flattery, then Peter Luger Steak House has cause to blush for the next 120 years. But not to gloat, and not to coast, and I’m convinced that this venerated and venerable New York institution is doing some of both.

I say that as someone who has loved it for a long time and wants to keep loving it but needs Luger to give me reasons: more consistent food than I’ve had there over the last few years, less dismissive service than I’ve encountered over the last few months.

Has Luger grown tired of us? Or have some of us just grown tired of it?

It’s certainly impossible not to be swayed by the proliferation of steakhouses in New York, so many of which Luger sired or inspired. What Luger serves we can get elsewhere — at Wolfgang’s Steakhouse, Benjamin Steak House, Ben & Jack’s Steak House, Blair Perrone Steakhouse, MarkJoseph Steakhouse — and while it may not be exactly the same, it’s sometimes close enough.

We can get it in less brutally illuminated dining rooms and pay for it with credit cards, which Luger still doesn’t take. We can get it in more accessible locations.

Or we can explore a new generation of steakhouses that have real wine lists — it’s time, way past time, that Luger seriously upgraded its own — and that are less narrowly focused on a mere handful of dishes. At Craftsteak we can begin a meal with terrific raw-bar selections. At BLT Steak we can have a side of sunchokes.

At almost any of these other places we can receive service warmer than Luger’s. The dour crew at Luger’s host station should lighten up, and the waiters should learn the difference between swagger and menace. One of them punctuated a recent lunch there by hurling the restaurant’s signature chocolate coins at my companions and me, turning a before-you-go thank-you into a get-lost pelting.

But on my next and last visit, a night when Luger summoned nearly all of its charms, a different waiter’s gruffness was pitch-perfect, a polished act instead of a peevish attitude.

Three friends and I wondered whether one of us should order fish, just to try it.

“Do you go to Hawaii to ski?” the waiter huffed, letting us know that the only sensible decision was steak for four, along with creamed spinach, of course, and German potatoes, naturally.

What a steak it was. Even before I saw it I could smell it — the acrid top note of its char, the funky bottom note of properly aged beef. I could even hear it, still sizzling from its time in one of the high-temperature broilers.

It was already sliced, and the waiter buckled down to the familiar Luger ritual, putting some filet and some sirloin on each plate, then spooning the pooled juices over it. The beef had a subtle tang, an intense mineral quality, a crazy richness and a spectrum of textures: crunchy at the edges, tender at the bone. I had to keep reminding myself to take it easy, to slow down.

No other steakhouse serves a porterhouse so breathtaking.

In several visits leading up to that one, Luger didn’t, either. Sometimes the steaks had a pronounced char and sometimes just a faint one. Sometimes I could taste the aging of the beef, sometimes not. Sometimes they were medium-rare, just as I’d requested, and sometimes they were slightly overdone.

I’ve traveled a similar road with Luger’s lunchtime hamburger, a mix of ground chuck and trimmings from the aged steaks. It was sumptuous on one occasion, serviceable on two.

And while variability along these lines is common even at principled restaurants, it’s at odds with the legend that Luger trades on, with the ultra-high expectations it creates. It’s not something I recall from visits to Luger a decade ago, shortly after it received three stars in The Times from Ruth Reichl in 1995. And it opens the door to additional qualms.

When the porterhouse is dead-on, I don’t notice how little sweetness there is in the fat slices of tomato with the fat slices of onion, even in the thick of tomato season. When the porterhouse is off, I do notice that, and I notice how excessively sweet the steak sauce is, along with how little flavor the shrimp cocktail has.

I notice that the Caesar doesn’t have as cheesy and salty a punch as the one at Wolfgang’s. That the Canadian bacon, while satisfying, isn’t as smoky and juicy as at Harry’s Steak, where it comes on the bone. That the lamb chops, while robust, don’t hold a candle to the mutton chop at Keens Steakhouse. Luger has fierce competition, new and old.

I’m certain its proprietors want it to be the best. I’m certain they care. They’re completing some renovations and adding another dining room. Whenever prime beef is in short supply, as it has been this year, they serve less of it rather than serving lesser meat.

In late spring and early summer, for example, they scaled back the restaurant’s hours and the number of reservations it accepted. And to compensate for the dearth of top-notch porterhouses, they added a rib steak to the menu. I’m told they’ll keep it there, and they should. It was excellent both times I had it.

They almost always get the fries right, making them thick and crisp enough to withstand the soggy plunge into the steak juices that many of us give them. They rightly present, among the desserts, an irresistible hot fudge sundae, because the only proper coda to gluttony on the scale of a Luger porterhouse, which impresses even when it doesn’t awe, is more gluttony.

With these strong points Peter Luger keeps up with its progeny and its peers. But that’s not the same thing as staying ahead.

Peter Luger Steak House

**

178 Broadway, near Bedford Avenue, Williamsburg, Brooklyn, (718) 387-7400.

ATMOSPHERE A brightly lighted series of rooms that recall a Bavarian beer hall.

SOUND LEVEL Moderate to loud, depending on crowd.

RECOMMENDED DISHES Canadian bacon; porterhouse for two to four; rib steak; hamburger; creamed spinach; French fries; hot fudge sundae; cheesecake.

WINE LIST Unimaginative, with an emphasis on big California reds.

PRICE RANGE Dinner appetizers, $2.95 to $15.95; entrees, $31.50 to $48.50; desserts, $8.95. Lunch specials, $8.95 to $16.95.

HOURS From 11:30 a.m. to 9:45 p.m. Monday through Thursday, to 10:45 p.m. Friday and Saturday. From 12:30 to 9:45 p.m. Sunday.

RESERVATIONS For prime dinner times, call at least five weeks ahead.

CREDIT CARDS Peter Luger charge cards only.

WHEELCHAIR ACCESS Entrance and main dining rooms on street level; accessible restroom to be added in coming months.

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Carnaval 2009: Mardi 24 Février 2009!!!!
JEK