Hy's Steakhouse

John Heckathorn

A brass-and-copper cauldron contains kiawe wood and is surrounded by a glass gazebo—all part of the scene at Hy's Steak House. Photo by Monte Costa

Did time stop? I walked into Hy’s for the first time in a couple of decades, and it was exactly the same, the ornate carved wood, the old-style library, the dead-on competent bartender and, finally, our waiter, Ernie Juliusburger, who’d been there 30 years. There’s something relaxing about dealing with a dignified, veteran, totally professional waiter.

The seafood appetizer cost only $3 less than the one at Beachhouse, but it was smaller, lacking things like abalone and hamachi, the lobster and shrimp a little less vivid, the best thing a solid portion of ahi sashimi. The presentation, however, was perfect, glass fish plates for each of us, with a lemon wedge tied up in cheesecloth.

The steaks were good, though perhaps not quite up to the standard I’d been eating. There’s no bone-in ribeye, so I ordered the Delmonico steak, which seemed a slightly thicker version of the same cut...