CheekyChicago

Outback. Some of the first things that pop into your head are probably Bloomin’ Onion; strip malls; chain restaurant mediocrity; mmmm…bread; and 8,000 calorie meals. My guess is you shy away from such words/phrases as class, elegance, expensive and sophisticated. Well, the Outback restaurant group can now consider themselves the latter…the addition of their Fleming’s Steakhouse on E. Ohio launches them to a whole new level.

Chicago is pretty much the steak capital of the world. That being said, we kinda don’t need another Chicago-style steakhouse. However, this meat lovin’ writer welcomes anything with ‘steak’ in its name with open arms. Fleming’s is no exception. I really enjoy the fact that new steakhouses pop up frequently (i.e. David Burke’s Primehouse) and they’re smart enough to modernize and contemporize the perfection that is the Chicago steakhouse. You walk into Fleming’s and know for sure that you’re going to get yourself a nice piece of red meat, but it doesn’t possess the pomp or grandiosity of dark wooden walls and oversized, green leather chairs. It’s sleek and sophisticated and has a giant, island-like bar right smack in the center.

I first indulged in an (extra) dirty martini. Per usual. I love steakhouse martinis – they’re always so darn big and dirty. We sipped while we ate appetizers. Eatin’ and drinkin’ – what could be better? The crab cakes with roasted red pepper and lime butter sauce were a little too rich for me; I don’t know if it was the extra butter in the lime sauce or if they buttered up the whole darn cake. Either way, the extremely light and delicious seared Ahi tuna on a fresh vegetable salad with spicy mustard sauce complemented the crab cake perfectly; and the sweet chile calamari balanced out the whole thing. Round one: complete.

The best was yet to come. I ordered my favorite meal of all time. An item so delicious and buttery and bold, my body quivers at the thought: the timeless and perfect medium-rare Filet Mignon. (Cue heavenly choir.) The charring was impeccable and the red rareness was perfect. As with most steakhouses, sides are a la carte. So, of course, we had to order three. Three people, three appetizers, three sides. The only one really worth mentioning was the creamed spinach. I could have eaten my round piece of juiciness all by itself and been just as (if not, more) happy. Round two: complete.

Round three: dessert. Or, lack thereof. The nine-ounce Filet Mignon in my stomach begged me not to proceed, so I listened. And drank some more wine. And reminisced about the three hours of decadent eating that had just ensued. Mission: accomplished.