Judged without price in mind, the experience, revolving around big, bloody prime steaks and assuredly seasoned sides, is rife with pleasure. The restaurant’s signature popovers, huge muffin-shaped poufs of bread laced with Asiago cheese, tempt you into ruining your appetite before the meal’s even begun. And who could deny the gratification of a hulking rib eye? They serve manly, classic meals. It’s just that the customer base, man-boy CEO types paying with their expensive accounts, makes this restaurant a tad unbearable.