House of Prime Rib has been open since the 1940s, and it’s as notorious as the name is ridiculous. Walking in here is like going to a Renaissance festival, except instead of jousting knights and turkey legs, it’s full of gigantic bottles of wine, pictures of royal guards, and a well-choreographed staff pushing around giant zeppelins full of meat. The waiting area is always packed with people standing two deep at the bar and you’ll see everyone from families celebrating to tourists looking to eat like a British monarch for a night. It’s controlled chaos, but in the best possible way.
You know what you’re here to eat, but when you open the menu, it’s still a bit shocking how few choices you have. There are six entrees to pick from, five of which are different cuts of prime rib and a sixth option of fish, and sides like Yorkshire pudding, baked potatoes, and creamed spinach. You choose how much prime rib you want, how you’d like it cooked, and how thick you want it cut. Aside from the actual cooking, everything here is prepared table-side - salads spin over bowls of ice while dressing gets poured over them from as high as your server can reach, meat is carved and plated table-side, and baked potatoes are split and set up with all the fixings faster than you could even try to take a picture.
The scene is gloriously fun to watch, but the food itself is also a big reason why every room in this palace is always packed. It’s meat and potatoes, plain and simple, but done perfectly in a way that’s difficult to top. There’s also a “secret menu” at House of Prime Rib, with things like the well-done rib ends, creamed corn, and mashed potatoes with baked potato fixings. That being said, the House of Prime Rib classics are classics for a reason, and you’re better off sticking with the main menu, especially if it’s your first time.
You may leave knowing that you’ll never come back, or you might make a tradition out of this place, but no matter what, you’ll never forget the first time you went to House of Prime Rib.
A mixed green salad tossed in their house dressing that has its own cult following. It’s a pretty filling salad, which seems like a bad idea before this meal, but somehow it works.
The classic, perfected. We’d happily trade places with this to swim in the gravy it’s doused in.
A somehow more massive slab of prime rib. Just as satisfying as the smaller one, but large enough to maybe take a nap on. This is the only cut from the “secret menu” that you can get seared and you should.
More prime rib, but cut into thinner, more manageable slabs. The thinner pieces are easier to take down and somehow make the prime rib taste meatier. We’re starting a three-year study on how this works, but for now, just get one person at your table to order this. That way, you’ll know better next time.
This is what you picture when you think of a baked potato. It’s got the classic set up with butter, sour cream, bacon bits, and chives. It could easily be a meal in itself, but at the House of Prime Rib, physics don’t matter and this is just a side. The mashed potatoes are also great, but the baked version has the upper hand, and leaves more juice on the plate for the Yorkshire pudding.
We would eat these at every meal for the rest of our lives and if they weren’t on the menu, you’d be stuck licking your plate clean like a complete animal.
The Academy struggles every time the creamed spinach comes up for an award - it is technically a supporting actor, but it’s so clearly a star in its own right. This stuff has more pork in it than a whole slab of bacon, and it shouldn’t be any other way.
Good, but not even close to the spinach.
Triple-layer chocolate, chocolate mousse, and cheesecake in a pool of raspberry sauce. It’s a classic dessert and the perfect way to finish the meal if you find yourself done with your mains and not simultaneously clutching your heart with one hand and dialing 911 with the other.
When you’re here, you’ll want to drink something like a martini or a Manhattan, and when you do, it comes with a sidecar. Two drinks for the price of one and it’s not even Happy Hour.