By Amy McCarthy
By Scott Reitz
By Scott Reitz
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Alice Laussade
By City of Ate
In many ways, Steve Fields is a typical steak house with dark woods, thick shutters and prominent wine displays. Jeroboams and magnums are installed in banquette corners. A giant inflatable bottle of Stoli is stationed in the lounge. In the dining room the wine rests horizontally in vertical racks with the labels of the same wine precisely aligned, creating a consistent wine stripe in each section up and down the wall. Just inside the entrance is an enormous, burbling tank; not the smeary utilitarian vessels you find in fish markets but a highly polished tank trimmed in glistening metal. Lobsters of varying sizes stumble over one another, with the smaller ones seemingly trying to burrow themselves under the larger ones--a survival march perhaps driven by a fear of approaching Mondays.
Before the steaks arrive, a set of vicious daggers with metal handles is arranged on a black napkin near the edge of the table. It's a ritual executed with exacting care. And no wonder. Prime beef here is stunning. Prime bone-in rib eye is especially compelling, growing richer and more radiant as you carve closer to the bone with one of those vicious blades. Juices run freely. The outer char perceptibly crunches in the incisors and is well-seasoned. And though it isn't prime, the smoked bacon-wrapped fillet is delicious as well.
Yet beef struggles in the mixed grill, a melancholy rabble of shrimp, chicken and beef medallions. The chicken is dry and uninteresting. The medallions are mealy and overcooked. The shrimp is hoary, or at least that is the hoped-for affliction. It has an off whiff; the subtle kind that doesn't hit until you've bitten into the body and discover an inherent soapiness brawling with pungent stench hints--slight ones. This mess is caught up in a tangle of fried shoestring onions, which, like the calamari and its spinach leaf cohorts, are festooned in grease, which seems to drool over everything else.
Lobster Fields is a custom lobster dish whereby the shell is filled with a chunky lobster, shrimp and crawfish medley covered in a mesh of melted jack cheese. We settled on it after discovering that the Lobster Carino, a lobster husk stuffed with lobster and crab risotto, was an outage. Lobster Fields is sound. Yet at Steve Fields it's best to keep it simple and not stray too far from the steak-lobster-lettuce wedge trifecta. And you can comfortably enjoy all three in the Lobster Lounge. At the piano. While the pianist plays "Mobster Lobster" by the Fredrik Norén Band. It is hoped. 5013 West Park Blvd., Plano, 972-596-7100. Open for dinner 4:30 p.m.-11 p.m. nightly. $$$