Where do aging, paunchier frat boys and ex-sorority girls with over-processed blond highlights go to feel as if they’re still reliving their glory days? You’ll find a lot of them here—now perhaps stockbrokers, “interior designers who studied abroad,” and PR minions—exchanging numbers at this downtown meat market.

Located in a historic 1903 building (set up with a 1980s-era interior), the Metropolitan Grill is one of the city’s foremost steakhouses. The high-backed banquettes are comfy, although a horrific shade of olive green, and the brown swirly-patterned carpet looks like one you’d find at a retirement home.

While the décor is a little dated, the food is actually quite good. At happy hour, thick-cut onion rings with curried ketchup arrive in almost too-plentiful portions, while oyster shooters and beef sliders are available at rock-bottom prices.

On the list of quaffables, classic cocktails like Vespers and Old-Fashioneds abound. (Bonus: the bartenders aren’t dressed in ridiculous Prohibition wear, either.) The wine list is spectacular, long, and covering all the bases. Come dinner, you’ll find buttery prime steaks subtly perfumed by mesquite wood and fatty-licious sides like Yukon Gold potato cakes with crème fraiche and chives. Not a carnivore? There’s your usual pesca-friendly picks like Alaskan King crab legs, or the prawn scampi with fettuccine alfredo. Now there’s a throwback to the restaurant’s 1981 birth year.