At one of these overdressed terrace tables, on any given night—amidst the awkwardly formal waiters and the lattice of half-burned-out Christmas lights partially obscuring the river beneath—someone is probably proposing marriage. This is because Little Rhein is one of the best-situated of River Walk perches. It’s also got one of the better wine lists in the touristy neighborhood, although predictably (given the view), markups are high.

Like this old stalwart’s dark-wood, knick-knacked interior, which reads like a caricatured German beer hall, the predictable menu of steaks, chops, and sides feels like it hasn’t changed for a half-century—except the dollar amounts (more than $80 for the impossible-to-argue-with Porterhouse for two). But many steaks are Prime, almost justifying their price points, and cooking times are generally honored; medium-rare is meaty and delicious.

Explore the menu beyond steak, though, and you’re heading for waters far murkier than the stream that flows between the tourist boats below. Sautéed spinach is watery and underseasoned; potatoes au gratin are overrich; an iceberg wedge benefits from a sprinkle of diced bacon, but blue cheese is haphazardly integrated into its dressing, leaving many runny-cream-only bites. Still, this is one of the least dangerous options along a River Walk of culinary landmines.