4 Park Ave.
In New York, age is one of the prerequisites for steakhouse greatness, and it’srare when a brand-new beef-eater palace manages, somehow, to feel grandly,fabulously old. But that’s how it feels at Wolfgang’s. Maybe it’s the antiquearched ceiling, which is intricately ribbed with old Guastavino tiles. Maybeit’s Wolfgang himself, an old-fashioned front-of-the-room operator, who bringswith him four decades of steakhouse knowledge accrued at Peter Luger’s, theoldest steakhouse of all. Or maybe it’s just the steak, which is brought to thetable on sizzling oval platters by fleets of grizzled waiters. The filet isalways appropriately buttery. The New York strip has a nice, salty crunch to it,and is supported with the usual array of creamy, fried, cholesterol-laden sides.Everything tastes the way it’s supposed to taste at Wolfgang’s. In thisnewfangled era of dining, that’s an achievement.