“I don’t even know if steakhouses are a trend in Arizona; we’re known for steaks in Arizona,” she says. “There might just be more joining the crowd.” This year, that crowd also includes BOA Steakhouse, Drake’s Hollywood, The Guest House, Harry & Izzy’s, Terra Gaucha Brazilian Steakhouse and Uppercut, along with new locations of Fogo de Chao, Origen and STK. At some of these new-era steakhouses, natural wood, neutral fabrics and plants have replaced the white tablecloths, leather and the haze of cigarette smoke. They’re less stuffy. The design’s fresher, for one. And you might have to talk over a live DJ, for another. Lee Maen, co-founder of the Los Angeles-based dining group behind BOA Steakhouse, says the evolution was needed to attract a younger crowd. “What we orig- inally wanted to do was a steakhouse that we wanted to go to,” Maen says, “not our parents.” And yet, behind the trappings, an old blueprint is in play — on repeat. Just scan the menu of any of these steakhouses, new or worn-in. You’ll see a curated selection of steaks, seafood and pasta. A wedge or Caesar salad invariably inaugurates the meal.Then potatoes arrive fried to a crisp or dutifully baked and pummeled with butter, sour cream and bacon. Steaks are cooked to your liking and plussed up with butters, bone marrows, seafood or sauces. Something you order will be finished table- side (quick, pull out your phone!). The martinis will be ice cold, stiff and abun- dant. When you feel stuffed, you’ll dig deep and order the cheesecake. The decadence is only limited by your imagination, and maybe your belt. In Arizona, at least, it has always been thus. Steak, in this economy? A walk through the hallways of The Stockyards is a ticket back in time. The probably haunted Phoenix institution has served diners since 1947. Menus from the 1960s and 1970s, adorned with rotund steers wearing crowns, hang in the restau- rant’s hallway, encircled by the sentence “Where prime Western beef is king.” Gary Lasko, co-owner and operator of the restaurant, loves uncovering those details and sharing them with customers. Every historic steakhouse needs lore. Many of The Stockyards’ original menu items remain. There’s giggle-inducing calf fries — or as one server referred to them, “the last thing over the fence” — and Chateaubriand, the classic French prepara- tion of tenderloin. One of the vintage menus advertises the latter for $8.50 per person. “It’s crazy to see those prices,” Lasko says. Today, the 16-ounce Chateaubriand goes for $130 for two. Lasko keeps a spreadsheet of competitor steakhouses, tracking what they charge for different cuts of beef and other dishes to constantly assess where his steakhouse stands. Prices are on the rise, driven in no small part by all-time high beef costs. Drought and feed costs are squeezing the number of cattle, industry experts say. Tariffs and disease also drive up prices. Restaurant owners say beef costs have leapt as much as 60% in the last year. “The herd is the smallest it’s been since the ’50s in the United States,” Lasko says. Yet diners are undeterred. On average, Americans eat more meat now than they did before the pandemic. Nearly one in five beef consumers anticipated eating more red meat in the coming year, per a Cargill study. Chris DuBois, a senior vice president at the market research company Circana, told The New York Times in April that “The demonization of meat is over.” Podcasters and influencers promote the virtues of a carnivore diet. Aging Americans and those on weight loss drugs seek out more protein to combat the loss of muscle mass. And no less than the federal government continues to celebrate steak and tallow like no other time in recent history. The new food pyramid, released by the Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.-led U.S. Department of Health and Human Services earlier this month, displays a thick, marbled steak at the pinnacle of Americans’ ideal diet. The relentless pull of the familiar In “Steak House,” Eric Wareheim set out to define the genre and create a record of iconic examples around the country. What he found on his travels was the DNA of what Valley diners are discovering anew. “I’ve been around the world 100 times and eaten everywhere and what I come back to is the comfort and consistency and joy that the steakhouse provides,” he told Eater last fall. “It’s simple and I can enjoy it the same as my dad, as my granddad.” Each place, each clientele may look a little different. But the dishes, the service and the atmosphere all signal an experi- ence that has carried through over generations. Christopher Gross, the James Beard Award-winning chef behind the epony- mous Wrigley Mansion fine dining haven, has been known to visit Durant’s for a prime rib or Maple & Ash for a ribeye. “The luxury or the appeal to the steak- house is people still — and me, too — love familiarity and comfort of not thinking,” Gross says. “No one’s recreating the wheel. It works. It rolls.” And yet, with such a rapidly expanding herd, restaurateurs try to stay one step ahead to stand out. Even Gross, whose restaurant is a destination for its culinary fancifulness, is considering an “if you can’t beat them, join them” tactic. He’s weighing whether to add more steaks and a la carte options on the restaurant’s Classics menu offered two nights a week, which currently includes a prime tenderloin filet au poivre. Rinzler and Maen see steak sourcing as the key to competing in a crowded arena. During its near-decade-long run and expansion to four Valley locations, Bourbon & Bones has upgraded to elite prime cuts and Wagyu. BOA Steakhouse, meanwhile, serves an 18-ounce dry-aged Black Angus ribeye from the 6666 Ranch, which is featured in Taylor Sheridan’s popular “Yellowstone” series, as well as a vegan Beyond Steak Filet. Jared Porter, the executive chef for Cleaverman, has reverence for steak- houses, but had never led one. He has cooked throughout the Valley for more than 25 years. Since starting at the classic Phoenix fine-dining restaurant Vincent on Camelback, he has worked at large local restaurant groups and was helming the kitchen at Tesota when a friend suggested he meet with the Pretty Decent Concepts team — backers of Cleaverman, its hidden bar Filthy and the forthcoming omakase Uppercut at the Arizona Center. Porter took the perceived guardrails of a steakhouse menu as a challenge. Can you work in some unique dishes and ingredi- ents along the way? Can you cook each steak flawlessly? Because there’s very little to hide behind if a steak isn’t perfect. “It’s flame, it’s high-quality beef and it’s salt, and that’s it,” he says. “Everything else is accentuating that simplicity.” Porter also says customers’ hunger for simplicity may be a reaction to food trends of the last few years. “We’ve gone through this hyper-esoteric, highly creative melting pot of different types of cuisines,” he explains. “I don’t think it’s any coincidence that the heaviest hitters in the food world are coming back to these simple roots.” Splashy steakhouses keep opening in other major cities, too. Celebrity chefs like Cleaverman opened in downtown Phoenix in November, dripping opulence. (Scene Select) Cleaverman executive chef Jared Porter. (Scene Select) Shareable cuts, like Bourbon & Bones’ tomahawk steak, are popular among diners. (Square One Concepts) >> p 14
