Decked-out ribeye (AJC Staff)

Yesterday’s visit to Kevin Rathbun Steak — with its huge, something-for-everyone menu — got me thinking about how much this kind of restaurant has changed over the past few years. This town is suddenly filled with all kinds of hyphenated steak houses. Pacci is an Italian steak house. Park 75 at the Four Seasons Hotel has become a “Southern Steak” house.

BLT Steak in the W Hotel downtown may be the strangest hybrid of all — a French bistro steak house. “BLT” stands for Bistro Laurent Tourondel, named for the French chef and empire builder.

Yes, it is one of these galumphing New York chains that has set itself up in wealthy cities throughout the world. It can also be ferociously expensive if you don’t watch carefully. (Was that really a $35 glass of wine I espied on the menu?) But the kitchen can cook with a level of finesse that few restaurants — chain or otherwise — match.

Being an equal-opportunity dad, I bring another one of my daughters to this steak house and order the same ribeye I treated her sister to at Kevin Rathbun Steak. (Parity is important.)

Salt shaker (daughter's arm in background)

Cheesy popovers the size of an elephant heart arrive first, outfitted with a crock of sweet butter and this funky shaker filled with crunchy, coarse salt. Hard not to love. The other gratis appetizer — an intense, metallic-tasting, near-black chicken liver spread with warm toast — isn’t my thing.

Lobster Cobb yumminess

Those popovers might’ve been appetizer enough, but we split a lobster Cobb salad — a grand affair, as well it should be for $27. It has perfect presence: a deep bowl of colorful greens (radicchio, watercress, frisée) outfitted with sliced avocado, fried onion wisps, a few impressive chunks of lobster that you will cherish, a thin round of pancetta that breaks in crisp shards with the tap of a fork, and a half egg that is neither soft boiled nor hard boiled, but that perfect in between the French call an oeuf mollet. I really love how the bitter lettuces interact with the rich garnishes and the way the dressing — creamy but gossamer thin — pulls it all together with the perfect hit of salt.

Our 22-ounce dry-aged ribeye ($45) comes all decked out with Gallic garnishes — it’s like a cowboy in a Pierre Cardin suit. A pat of herb butter, a sprig of thyme, a half head of roasted garlic, a marrow bone with a tiny spoon poking from its center, and a pink plastic cow indicating a medium-rare temperature all crowd about this sizzling, well charred hunk o’ cow.

Is it medium rare? A bare shade past (the center, in parts, more pink than red) but not enough to complain about. It isn’t as prime a specimen as the ribeye we were served at Kevin Rathbun Steak — cut from a rib closer to the shoulder and therefore without the clearly defined eye and cap. But I do like the heavily seasoned, charred to near-Pittsburgh-style crust, though my kid was a little dismayed by the bitterness of it. (Be warned, this is the house style.)

Our side dishes are good but exceedingly rich. Butter-braised collards with bacon taste amazing. The kitchen has taken something from the Southern vernacular and put a French imperative tense on it. I want the recipe.

A fat discus potato/leek has a gorgeous, crisp surface but literally oozes grease into your mouth. Buttery steak, buttery collards, oily potatoes — we tucker out pretty quickly.

The dessert we didn't need

Yet we can’t resist this eggy crèpe soufflée for dessert. With its brûléed crust and puckery passion fruit sauce, it keeps your tongue excited bite after bite.

So these are my final impressions:

1. The kitchen cooks with real finesse.
2. The steak house/bistro thing works well.
3. The menu is expensive enough that you really have to watch your extras.
4. Getting in and out of the W Downtown is one of the great traffic nightmares of Atlanta.

Have you been? Were your impressions similar? Do you like these newfangled steak houses?