In this era of gastropubs and fusion bistros, it comes as a welcome relief to enter a place that still calls itself a “chophouse,” as does Suzanne Tracht's 11-year-old West Hollywood restaurant, Jar. The moniker is a signal to other beautifully atavistic traits: a maitre d' in a suit and tie, white tablecloths, an iceberg wedge on the menu, a playlist of Sinatra and Armstrong and Nina Simone — and some of the best steaks in Los Angeles. Not only will your dry-aged Kansas City steak or your filet of beef or your prime rib-eye arrive perfectly cooked and presented, it will be served with a little white ceramic boat of sauce like the perfect accessory (a cufflink, a pocket square). The beef is so tender that it hardly needs the lobster béarnaise in the first place, but you are not here for restraint. (Think to yourself: What would Frank do?) Order a martini or two, then the stellar chocolate pudding for dessert. 8225 Beverly Blvd. (323) 655-6566,

—Amy Scattergood

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