The famous Sizzler doesn’t disappoint, a New York strip sirloin served hissing in a cast iron skillet, with a nice crust and just the right amount of rosy juices. Just beware, the smell of fried meat may well linger on your clothes after you leave.
Two homemade desserts on the menu — hot apple crisp cooled with vanilla ice cream and light, jiggly Grape-Nut custard, both doused in mounds of whipped cream — don’t seem to be what we need after a heavy, meaty meal, but in fact, they are.
Bar customers can get lobster, meatball, or prime rib sliders, and can order off the menu after the dining room is closed. We go for the meatball: a baseball-size springy orb served with chunky tomato sauce that squishes nicely between crusty buns.
Service could be more attentive. Our waiter brings out the monster tomahawk steak before clearing appetizer plates, forcing us to juggle dishes and glasses. When he brings the bill, our cold french fries are still on the table.
But maybe that’s the kind of casual place Frank wants it to be. At the end of our first visit, our waitress pads out of the coat room in her socks, shoes in hand, as she gets ready to go home for the night.
Is it the best meal you’ll ever have? No. But it’s affordable and familiar and authentically Frank’s, and the regulars who keep coming back wouldn’t have it any other way.