Of the pricey chain steakhouses, III Forks feels more fun and Texan than the rest. It’s lively, with an elegant, almost Art Deco clubbiness. Of course, the service is of the expected bumbling-over-the-top ilk; it’s endearing at times, when not awkward. You’ll find a few too many designated “sommeliers,” the opposite problem most modern restaurants have, but there’s such little variation between its big, oaky wines that it obliterates the need for guidance. The bar’s list of “Modern Classics” comprises sugared-up cocktails that are neither modern nor classic, and Scotch is egregiously marked up.

The steaks are wet-aged, so they don’t get that tangy funk a good dry-aging can accomplish, but they are cooked expertly to their correct temperatures. A Porterhouse for two has good texture, the ribeye is well marbled, and an order of medium-rare will result in a nice, if faint, crust. Although peppery enough, they often need help from the table saltshaker. As for sides, which we find less than enchanting at other steakhouses, these are all quite good: “off-the-cob cream corn” is beguiling and sweet, while creamed spinach and onion rings are correct. We’re not over the moon about our dining choices downtown at 10pm on a Saturday, but you could do worse than this.