I just recently turned 21, and being a foodie, I knew I had to celebrate at a restaurant that would make me gain at least 5 pounds in one sitting. Being an LA native, I have eaten at some of the best steak restaurants in the City of Angels, from Ruth’s Chris to Flemings, and of course prime rib from Lawry’s. But, I decided to go big for my 21st birthday dinner at Mastro’s Steakhouse in Beverly Hills. It truly is an unparalleled dining experience, and I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
Get Yo Carbs and Drank On
Pulling up to this iconic restaurant on Canon Drive right off of Rodeo, you are welcomed with two gentlemen who hold the glass doors open for you. Instant class. Boujie central. Enjoy it. And bask in it. Because you are just getting started.
I started off my dinner with a cocktail called the Berry Lemonade, consisting of some Grey Goose, Patrón, and Chambord, served tall over some lemonade and crushed up berries. It was perfectly sweet without tasting like death (I have not yet evolved a strong enough palette for alcohol). Then they bring out the wonderful bread basket. This isn’t your typical bread basket with subpar, dry bread. This bread basket is warm, filled with salted pretzel bread, some French baguette, and garlic-cheese crostini. And of course served with salty, soft butter, which I use way too much of.
Steakhouse Musts
When at a steakhouse, it is a must to get crab cakes. These crab cakes were *Italian chef kiss* perfection. You actually get beautiful chunks of crab, with the creamiest tartar sauce served with microgreens. To make ourselves feel a little bit healthy, my family and I decided to get an iceberg wedge salad. Knowing we were fooling ourselves, we were still the tiniest bit convinced that this salad had some nutrition in it. But with all the thick, cut bacon crumbles, the eggs, and the perfectly funky blue cheese, it definitely isn’t diet-friendly.
Filet of Dreams
While our bellies were already well on their way to forming a food baby, the steaks finally arrived. A gorgeous, medium-well 8oz. filet mignon was sitting right in front of me (I know medium-well may be too cooked for most, but I used to order only well-done for 18 years of my life…don’t judge!). The smell alone was satisfying. Served alongside this heavenly meal was the probably the greatest creamed spinach I’ve ever had. Think spinach-artichoke dip creaminess. Another side that blew my mind was the creamed corn. Wow. Just wow. The creamed corn was sweet and creamy and complimented the spinach flawlessly. And last, but certainly not least, but was the twice baked potato, Cheesy, potato-ey goodness in every bite. I die!
Dessert with a Side of Food Baby
Alrighty, by this point the food baby was fully formed, about ready to pop. But I had to be strong to make room for dessert. I indulged in the famous Mastro’s butter cake. Butter. Cake. As in cake. Made with tons of butter. The lovely waitress brought it out in addition to the complimentary and fantastically rich chocolate birthday cake. The chocolate cake was great, but I’m here to talk about the freakin’ butter cake. This culinary masterpiece is served with a hefty serving of vanilla ice cream, raspberry drizzle, strawberries, raspberries, orange slices and…get ready…a whole bowl of homemade whip cream. The butter cake has a crumbly, dry (in a good way!) outside, and the inside is so soft, so warm, so divine. It has hints of cream cheese tanginess which make your eyes roll to the back of your head as you take many, many bites.
By the time the check came, I was ready to have a nice, peaceful slumber in the booth, being too full to move. I was so full, I think I was having not just one food baby, but maybe two or three. I have been dreaming of this mouthwatering and exquisite meal ever since then, and that’s how I know I have started my 21st year of life on the correct foot. Mastro’s is a steak-lover’s paradise, and especially for those who are feelin’ bad and boujie. Not for the faint of heart. Make your way to Beverly Hills ASAP, and wear some loose pants while you’re at it.