It’s easy to identify a great steakhouse. It’s that instantly comforting place serving big hunks of meat, shrimp cocktails, cold martinis, and so on. But the quest to find the “best steakhouse” requires a follow-up question: “The best for what?”

It turns out, when you ask an Eater editor about their favorite steakhouses, we often come back with highly specific, niche love affairs — many of which are less about the food and more about a special experience outside of the plate. Thus, our slightly off-kilter steakhouse superlatives: a set of cheeky awards for steakhouses we love for a variety of reasons, some traditional and some distinctly not, whether it’s the immersive time-travel feeling a restaurant gives, its essential place in the community, the way it sounds inside, or the hours it keeps. These are the best steakhouses in America for extremely specific reasons.

Century-old haunt Musso & Frank might be the last place on Hollywood Boulevard where the stars inside are cooler than the ones on the sidewalk. On any given night, you might be seated near The Rolling Stones (true story), Metallica (true story), or Jon Hamm and John Slattery chatting over drinks just like their Mad Men characters (also, unbelievably, a true story). There’s no better place to enjoy an icy martini and a steak on the fiery indoor grill (exempt from LA ordinances that ban charcoal indoors). Ask for the Marilyn Monroe booth. — Hilary Pollack

Austin restaurant and butcher shop Dai Due is sneakily one of the best steak destinations in Texas. Jesse Griffiths is one of those Texas-forever chefs who walks the walk: All the meat he sources comes from the state, and he often does his own hunting. Look no further than the glorious dry-aged Texas wagyu rib-eye for a meal that could never happen anywhere else. — Nadia Chaudhury

When the creators of Parks & Recreation assembled a bachelor party for Nick Offerman’s Ron Swanson, it could only have been at St. Elmo, a vintage steakhouse nonpareil in Indianapolis. It’s not the literal Ron Swanson of it all that makes it special, but what the character’s tastes represent: the ideal old-school restaurant, with a huge porterhouse, immaculate shrimp cocktail, and lots of wine and whiskey. It’s a throwback to a different era, without the baggage (never mind the questionable Parks & Rec cameo from Newt Gingrich). —Ben Mesirow

Time tends to melt in Las Vegas. It’s all too easy to lose yourself in flashing lights and tumbling dice in a way both disorienting and thrilling. But it is a great relief to know that when you cancel a 5 p.m. dinner reservation, push past an 8 o’clock rebook, and suddenly look up to find it’s after midnight, Herbs & Rye will be there, ready to serve you a great steak, classic sides, and stellar cocktails until 3 a.m. —BM

More of a steak-serving neighborhood gathering place than a traditional steakhouse, Annie’s Paramount Steakhouse in D.C. has been a vibrant hub for the city’s LGBTQ community, and the Dupont Circle neighborhood at large, for nearly 80 years. Regulars head to the 17th Street location to dish over strong martinis, London broil with mushrooms and gravy, and cabernet-drenched chopped steak; the inclusive destination’s status as an icon was immortalized with a James Beard America’s Classic award in 2019. — Missy Frederick

Over the past 70 years, the team at Bern’s has amassed one of the greatest wine cellars in the world, with more than half a million bottles spanning 6,500 labels. You might expect that to correlate with a sophisticated vibe, but this is Tampa, baby, and the Laxer family let it rip on the decor. There are different rooms with themes (based on the Laxers’ art collection) that veer from hotel ballroom to Dracula’s castle. It’s extravagant, it’s gaudy, and you can’t beat the vintage wine and dry-aged steak done in high Florida style. — BM

Plenty of steakhouses decorate with Old West kitsch, but visiting the Old Place, set in a century-old former post office in the Santa Monica Mountains, is basically time travel. Getting there requires a winding ascent from modern Malibu into the dusty chaparral of a classic Western. There are a few rough-hewn booths and a long bar in the low-ceilinged room, which is decorated with animal skulls and perfumed with oak smoke. Order a big steak and a bottle of local wine — and maybe some clams, which are surprisingly good — and try not to tangle with any outlaws. — BM

Gibsons classic steakhouse cooking is worthy of distinction, but its bar is also the throbbing heart of the Viagra Triangle, a nightlife district in Chicago’s Gold Coast with a very specific scene: It’s a place for financially stable, mature adults to meet like-minded partners (of any age — but usually younger). The bar is fun, raucous, flashy, and makes for some of the best people-watching around, before heading to the dining room to get a signature Chicago cut bone-in rib-eye and another Paper Plane or two. — BM

The bar at West Chelsea’s Crane Club steakhouse, the first serious food-focused spot from the clubstaurant experts at Tao Group in New York, is ideal for drinking, dining, and people-watching among a crowd that clearly has money. The bar has lowered ceilings, crimson booths, and scalloped light fixtures that give it the feel of a lair. Behind the bar, Chris Lemperle turns out sharp riffs on classics, alongside the showstopping Vintage Vesper 1953 — the drink of James Bond made with the now-discontinued Kina Lillet — for $350. And if you arrive between 5:30 and 6 p.m., you can score one of the 12 nightly off-menu burgers. — Melissa McCart

Some steakhouse menus are like phone books. The one at Colorado chain Quincy’s is like a tweet: Filet mignon, starting at $19 for 6 ounces, with baked potato and salad. Mac and cheese and lasagna are the only sides, chocolate cream pie and cheesecake the only desserts. Prime rib on weekends. That’s it. — Nick Mancall-Bitel

Superprime Steakhouse is San Francisco’s new hub of steak from chef Marc Zimmerman, combining master cuts of beef and wagyu with, surprisingly, a killer vintage JBL sound system. The tunes carry over from Zimmerman’s previous project, Yokai, setting a steak-eating mood with jazz vinyls that palpably warm up the space. It’s part listening bar, part steakhouse, with an undercurrent of San Francisco style. — Dianne de Guzman

It’s not often that you have to pass through a package liquor store in order to get to a steakhouse, but this affordable meat den and speakeasy in Albuquerque is more than its humble surroundings. A fixture of Eater’s essential Albuquerque restaurants list, the Monte Carlo’s offerings are well-marbled, reasonably priced, and unpretentious; think no-frills sides and starters like loaded baked potatoes, deep-fried zucchini, and mozzarella sticks. Naturally, the restaurant also serves a formidable green chile cheeseburger. — MF