The Fillet Mignon at Winston's on the Queen Mary is a fucking magic trick, I swear. People talk about "not needing a knife" for tender steak, but the fillet mignon at Winston's parts with a fork. That's not hyperbole in any way.
It's not the best steak I've ever had, but I'm an ornery fuck, and what I like in a steak is likely trailer trash grade compared to that filet mignon. I just like different things. I'll take damn near burnt steak tips over a fine sirloin. Someone mentioned A1 a while back, and it reminded me of shitty steaks and watching star trek with my dad. A1 is a magic potion.
Even the price was reasonable. The only thing I disliked about Winston's was the dress code, but I came prepared. Eating is not a formality, and one should not require a fucking sports jacket to eat a steak.
I'll rock formal pants and nice shoes any day, but I'll be dipped in shit before I wear a tie to dinner. A dress shirt is the most I'll do. And that one was silk.
Charging for butter is faggotry.