The first signs that this isn’t Just Another Meat Market are the rope and the suit positioned outside the new STK Steakhouse inside the Marriott Marquis hotel.
The second indication is the design. The passage from host stand to dining room is a sloped tunnel with a ribbed white ceiling. Walking through conjures amusement parks as well as Jonah’s view from inside a whale.
Reservation holders are led to their table in a dining room so loud, you can’t tell if the waiter just greeted you or asked for your water preference, and so expensive, you feel as if you’re in Tokyo or London. I’m used to seeing high prices for beef. But $53 for routine roast chicken? I expect the main course to come with bells and whistles. Instead, it rests atop green beans and peas that are pretty to look at but bore the tongue. For a moment, I imagine myself at 30,000 feet, eating an airplane meal.
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End of carouselSTK is part of a Denver-based chain that’s almost 30 places big and uses surf and turf, light sticks, DJs and curious design to promote a “VIBE dining experience,” according to a press release from ONE Group Hospitality, which is partial to uppercase letters. “Dare to be” reads a message in neon up front. Other parts of the interior draw eyes to white resin animal horns, bunches of flowers, and lighting that mixes pink and purple. I’m talking cotton candy crossed with Pepto Bismol.
This isn’t the brand’s first rodeo in the District. A decade ago, STK tried to distinguish itself with a black-and-white interior and a short-lived “female-friendly” concept in Dupont Circle. The establishment’s business cards at the time bore a contradictory image: a short red dress, epic legs that ended in red heels and a piece of raw meat dangling from a hook. STK was a pickup joint that happened to serve food. That DNA remains. A loyalty program asks if you want to be “friends with benefits.”
STK isn’t a situationship you want to be in. With few exceptions, the dishes are lackluster versions of steakhouse staples. STK’s Caesar salad sports a nice tang, but it’s almost as much croutons as torn lettuce, while the tuna tartare on a base of avocado comes with a brown moat of sweet soy sauce and honey that masks the flavor of the already wan tuna. Taro chips play the role of both garnish and scoop; they also shatter when they encounter the dense tartare. Sometimes you receive gratis pull-apart bread topped with blue cheese butter that’s warm and pillowy. Sometimes you get a free skillet of bread that’s hard and dry, or gummy. All improve when you dunk them in a bright-green escort of chive oil, although gummy remains gummy.
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It seems nobody told STK No. 28 that it opened in crab cake country. I’ve tried the loose seafood patties twice here. They are staged with a curl of shaved cucumber that the menu calls “cucumber mustard seed salad” and announce themselves with … an off-putting whiff of fish, not a fragrance I expect from crab. No thanks.
I have a beef with the meat, too. Most selections need a sauce as a booster. (Try horseradish cream.) New York strip is all chew and zero flavor. It was also grilled beyond the medium-rare we requested. Rack of lamb is warm, damp and vague. More to my taste is the dry-aged bone-in strip, lightly crusty from the grill. The saddest cut of all was beef short rib, whose appearance and overcooking made it look as if the meat took a spin in a clothes dryer before it was plated with creamy mashed potatoes and roasted pepper relish, highlights (middlelights?) of the $54 disappointment.
The hostesses are gracious no matter how busy they are, but once you’re seated, be warned: Your entire order comes out at once. My first time at STK, a companion and I surrendered half-finished appetizers to make space for incoming entrees. The second dinner, I tried to avert the issue by telling our server we were in no rush and requesting first and second courses to arrive separately. “I’ll ask the kitchen,” our attendant responded with hesitation, as if I had just requested something special. Again, everything showed up en masse.
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On my final visit, I explained what had happened on earlier dates to a sympathetic waiter. (“Are you in for a convention?” he asked.) Unfortunately, one of his colleagues and a manager delivered the food, and unfortunately, it was — again — pretty much the whole shebang. This time, I pointed at the unfinished business on the table and asked for the entrees to go back to the kitchen. Our minders paused. They didn’t say anything, but their eyes spoke volumes as they retreated with full hands. Would the kitchen be angry? Frankly, it wasn’t my problem. STK isn’t a tapas bar or a dim sum parlor where customers might expect dishes to come out as they’re ready.
Should you find yourself in STK’s clutches — say, a friend who doesn’t follow restaurant reviews invites you here, you’re part of a business dinner whose host doesn’t want to stray from the Marriott or your job is to warn people away from expensive land mines — first, you have my sympathy. D.C. has so many good new restaurants worthier of your time and attention.
Second, allow me to offer a survival guide, starting with a life ring of fried calamari. Presented as a bronzed heap scattered with shishito peppers for some heat and color, the bands of seafood are paired with a bright citrus aioli and a sweet chile sauce. Dip, dip away. Thick slices of smoky Nueske’s bacon draped over sweet and creamy coleslaw look like they’re ready for a picnic rather than a night on the town, but they make a pleasant if quirky warm-cool, crisp-smooth combination.
Dishes whose featured ingredient originated in the water trump those from the field. While overpriced at $61, the miso-brushed sea bass yields to the touch of a fork, and I appreciate the spark of fresh ginger in the entree, which is paired with bright-green bok choy. Bites of lobster are arranged over a turban of linguine, draped with a kicky cream sauce and rounded out with halved cherry tomatoes and a dusting of parmesan. The combination is rich and satisfying. I thought about ordering the fish and chips, only to see what $66 of halibut and potatoes looked like. For that sum, I could get two orders of fish and chips at Buck’s Fishing & Camping, a D.C. hall of fame restaurant where you don’t have to scream to be heard and the vastly superior food comes with pauses between courses.
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The $19 sides include corn pudding and cider-glazed Brussels sprouts that both taste as if they were auditioning to be dessert and creamed spinach that needs something besides cream and spinach to break the monotony. The fried onions on top feel divorced from the union. Crave a vegetable? Enlist the simple sautéed asparagus.
The restaurant that preceded STK was the dashing and delicious Arroz from chef Mike Isabella, a star whose lights were extinguished after his restaurant empire fell apart amid #MeToo allegations. Arroz, which showcased a Moroccan/Portuguese/Spanish menu, was a personal statement from a local personality — the hotel’s prized amenity. In contrast, the corporate replacement feels as if it could be anywhere (which it is, pretty much) and stands out mostly for what it lacks: taste, timing, a sense of value, and a vibe that makes me want to go back.
It’s telling that no one who dined with me once at STK wanted to return, even as my guest. That’s a lot of rejection.
On its website, ONE Group Hospitality says its mission is to be the global leader in Vibe Dining. On behalf of diners, I fear for the future. How much more I wish the chain would finish its neon thought: “Dare to be” … better, for starters.
STK Steakhouse
901 Massachusetts Ave. NW. 202-301-3791. stksteakhouse.com. Open for lunch 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Monday through Friday; for dinner 3 p.m. to midnight Monday through Thursday, 3 p.m. to 1 a.m. Friday and Saturday, 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. Sunday; for brunch 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. Prices: dinner appetizers $26 to $71 (for oysters with caviar), entrees $52 to $163 (for 34-ounce dry-aged tomahawk). Sound check: 83 decibels/Extremely loud. Accessibility: No barriers to entry; certain tables are marked for wheelchair users and restrooms are ADA-compliant.
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