Myron's knows beef and more

Steak house worth trip up Interstate 35

By John Griffin
San Antonio Express-News Dining Editor
June 20, 2003

NEW BRAUNFELS — Bill Been has learned his lessons well. A former manager of the Old San Francisco Steakhouse and a one-time Ruth's Chris Steak House employee, Been has ventured out on his own with Myron's Steak House here. The result is both homage to his former employers and refreshingly idiosyncratic in this area.

Been, whose first name is actually Myron, knows it would be foolhardy to try to reinvent the concept from the ground up. He has learned what people want when they patronize a high-end steak house, what they expect and what will bring them back for more.

To succeed, you need the highest quality ingredients and somebody in the kitchen who can prepare them well. You also need to emphasize those points as often as possible. The latter is no problem whatsoever: Been has hired Morgan Tausch, who worked with him at various locations in the past, including the Ruth's Chris at Jones Maltsberger Road. He knows his beef and how to make it sing.

Your server will address the former, providing a run-down of how carefully selected the prime beef is and how it has been wet-aged for 21 days before it is prepared to order. (And in case you forget, it's spelled out in the menu.) The steaks we sampled, from New York strip to filet, were uniformly excellent; the grain-fed beef resembled velvet on the tongue and boasted an irresistible combination of beef juices and melted butter.

But Myron's goes beyond great steaks and the expected, well-chosen wine list that leans to the red. The North Atlantic salmon was one of the best pieces of fish I've tasted in the area. Though the menu said it would be blackened, there were few spices coating the generous fillet, and few were needed as the briny flavor, dripping in fish oil, shone on its own.

It was but one of many pleasant surprises throughout two hearty meals.

To start at the beginning, look for the garlicky Shrimp Myron or the just-seared tuna drizzled in melted butter and served with a soy sauce. The Shrimp Rémoulade was simplicity itself: chilled boiled shrimp with a spicy sauce; but the superb quality of the shrimp made all the difference. Any of these dishes should have you smiling in eager anticipation of more to come.

What arrives next is a wedge of iceberg lettuce crowned in one of the best house-made salad dressings you'll find in the area. It may seem odd to find both a blue cheese and a creamy gorgonzola on the menu — that is, until you taste the differences between them. The former is chunky; your teeth smash into each pungent clump with relish. The latter is smooth yet strong, as the cheese mixes with garlic to great effect. The ranch tops both with its blend of fresh buttermilk, garlic and black pepper.

Unless you have an aversion to iceberg lettuce, you don't need to order another salad. It is included in the price of an entrée. Nevertheless, we sampled the asparagus and heart of palm salad, which was exemplary but simply not worth an extra $8.

We have written a lot lately about the spreading epidemic of lukewarm food. Unfortunately, Myron's has not been spared from this. There was nothing tepid about our first visit, but our second started off wrong when the crab-stuffed mushrooms arrived barely warm (the bready stuffing was OK, but it lost its charm when used in the stuffed shrimp entrée). The creamed spinach and the mashed potatoes were received coolly as well, though the latter was resuscitated somewhat after a spell on the plate the T-bone arrived on. The plates are heated to 400 degrees before reaching the table, causing the butter topping to snap, crackle and pop. (I won't say sizzle, as that characteristic seems to belong to one of the restaurants for which Been once worked.)

I could also have wished for the pecan pie to be served warm, but that is minor when compared to the taste of this otherwise exemplary version. It was vastly superior to the extremely overcooked cheesecake that had a grainy texture.

Far better was the crème brûlée, which had only a whisper of burnt sugar on top; that may not be traditional, but it pleased the friend who ordered it. Finally, there was the assortment of fresh berries in an eggy, pudding-style cream sauce that bore striking resemblance to a dessert sampled at the same aforementioned sizzler of a restaurant, though the inclusion of the nectarine "berry" made it unique.

Myron's is housed in an old movie theater, which is apt, as there is a definite theatricality to the presentation. Still, there seems something lightly unfinished about the high, bare walls, as if the designer were waiting for just the right piece of art to complete it. Yet the bold lines and striking booths, even the sleek bathroom décor, will likely became a topic of conversation among first-timers.

As much as I love the booths, there is a drawback. Some are a bit small for those of us from the Fattest City in America. Six more inches of, um, elbow room would make all the difference in the world.

The wait staff appears to be well regimented. The requisite formality has a touch of friendliness that, on our first visit, could not have been improved upon. Our second waiter, however, needs to learn that diners do not appreciate being told the kitchen is wondering what manner of creatures were devouring that much food.

When the food is that good, what else are you supposed to do?