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Decorated like a Victorian cathouse, this steak place isn't channeling Luger. With no porterhouse, your choice devolves to just the N.Y. strip, available in two sizes, and the hefty ribeye. Pick the former, which arrives charred and displaying the crumbly texture of the perfectly aged steak. Our ribeye, though handsome, had all sorts of grisly areas, and lacked the strip's flavor. The place is called Strip House, after all. Novel sides;potatoes fried in goose fat, and truffle-laced creamed spinach;also made the meal unique.