It's been said that when a new steakhouse opens, an angel gets its wings.
Or something like that.
Opening tomorrow for your prime beef consumption (and angel-birthing) pleasure is Center Cut, Jeffrey Chodorow's (Kobe Club) new resto at Lincoln Center's Empire Hotel.
As steakhouses go, Center Cut keeps things on the straight and narrow (for the most part). The steaks come a la carte or as classics—Diane, Oscar, au Poivre—and the raw bar is disguised as a "Sea Bar." There are a few menu tweaks to keep things interesting (try the "Flintstone" Beef Rib or the Double "Double" Lobster Bisque), but the real action comes in the form of the opulent private dining room.
While the main room is a polite palace of beige and sandstone, perfectly set up for the Lincoln Center theater crowd, you'll want to make your scene elsewhere—somewhere a little more private and a little more suited to the big opulent meal you so richly deserve.
Call on your twenty favorite carnivores, and they'll be pleasantly surprised to walk into a secluded room that may well have been decorated by Liberace; the walls and ceiling are painted red, there's a giant white chandelier and, of course, a huge gold-framed mirror that magically turns into a flat screen. It's the perfect room for a sinful feast of beef and Bordeaux.
Perfect: You're no angel.
Or something like that.
Opening tomorrow for your prime beef consumption (and angel-birthing) pleasure is Center Cut, Jeffrey Chodorow's (Kobe Club) new resto at Lincoln Center's Empire Hotel.
As steakhouses go, Center Cut keeps things on the straight and narrow (for the most part). The steaks come a la carte or as classics—Diane, Oscar, au Poivre—and the raw bar is disguised as a "Sea Bar." There are a few menu tweaks to keep things interesting (try the "Flintstone" Beef Rib or the Double "Double" Lobster Bisque), but the real action comes in the form of the opulent private dining room.
While the main room is a polite palace of beige and sandstone, perfectly set up for the Lincoln Center theater crowd, you'll want to make your scene elsewhere—somewhere a little more private and a little more suited to the big opulent meal you so richly deserve.
Call on your twenty favorite carnivores, and they'll be pleasantly surprised to walk into a secluded room that may well have been decorated by Liberace; the walls and ceiling are painted red, there's a giant white chandelier and, of course, a huge gold-framed mirror that magically turns into a flat screen. It's the perfect room for a sinful feast of beef and Bordeaux.
Perfect: You're no angel.
