Top Sirloin
The one the regulars order without looking.
Northridge, California
Mesquite-broiled since 1964
A dark room on Corbin Avenue, a wood fire lit every evening, and steaks hand-cut in the building and aged at least twenty-one days.
Since 1964
The same booth, the same Friday, three generations deep
Corbin Avenue has changed around us. The room has not — low lamps, deep booths, and a broiler you can smell from the parking lot.
Nobody here is in a hurry, and neither are you. Order the sirloin, take both sidekicks, stay for dessert. The fire will still be up when you decide.
The beef
Hand-cut here, aged twenty-one days
We break down whole loins in the building. Nothing arrives portioned, and nothing goes on the fire under twenty-one days.
New York Strip
Firm, marbled through, cut thick.
Filet Mignon
Cut from the centre of the tenderloin.
Bone-In Ribeye
The bone does the seasoning.
The broiler
Mesquite, lit at four, down to coals by six
Mesquite burns hotter and shorter than oak. Lit in the afternoon, it is embers by service — and embers are what put the crust on a steak without cooking the middle past where you asked for it.