U. S. News & World Report Food "Steakhouse craze defies healthful eating edict" By Linda Kulman Atlanta businessman Brett Hunsaker and his wife, Carol, celebrated their daughter's birth recently at a spot that has become the family's second dinner table. They dined on steak at the local Morton's of Chicago, where the Porterhouse weighed only a few pounds less than their 5-day-old infant. "You have to get them in there early," says Hunsaker, 40, who stands 6 feet tall and weighs "in excess of 250." On Mondays, he usually treats his two teenage sons to a steak at Morton's after soccer practice. Several times a week he hosts business dinners there, chowing down on a 16-ounce Cajun rib-eye cooked just to the far side of medium with a moderate char. It's not just steak Hunsaker appreciates; it's steakhouses. "They're not trying to be the 'now,'" he says. "They're (about) tradition." Though few are as passionate about their steak as Hunsaker, consumption of red meat in the country is on the rise, and restaurants featuring steak are red-hot. "Steakhouses seem to be opening on every corner of every city," says Michael Batterberry, editor in chief and publisher of Food Arts magazine. Sales at ever expanding upscale steakhouse chains like Ruth's Chris and casual eateries like Outback rose 22 percent in 1999. Meanwhile, sales at inexpensive steakhouses, like Ponderosa, dropped 3 percent, according to Technomic, a consulting firm. Back at the ranch, steak consumption remained healthy; the National Cattlemen's Beef Association estimates that two thirds of the 69.6 pounds per capita Americans ate last year was scarfed down at home. Celebrity chow. The high-protein, low-carbohydrate diet craze, reassurance by the U.S. government about mad cow disease, and the strong economy haven't hurt. Yet some believe Americans' appetite for hunks of red meat goes deeper. "When the caveman beat something over the head and dragged it back for dinner," says Allen Bernstein, CEO of Morton's Restaurant Group, "it wasn't sushi." For many Americans, nothing quite signifies prosperity like a good slab of beef. It's not just the expense, although at Morton's, you can easily drop $145 for two. Steak lovers say it's more about treating yourself well. If you can't be a celebrity, you can at least eat like one, say Julie Piafsky, 25, who works as a tutor in Baltimore, after devouring a strip steak recently at the Capital Grille in Washington. "It's a way to narrow the gap." The masculinity of steakhouses is also part of their appeal. With a few exceptions, steakhouses remain a male bastion-dimly lighted and perfumed with cigar smoke. For men, and a growing number of women who like this atmosphere, there is another reason the steakhouse appeals, says James L. Watson, a professor of anthropology at Harvard University. Steak has to do with power and control: It's a declaration of "I can do this, and I'm not going to get fat or sick," he says. In a recent interview with U.S. News, Julia Child agrees. "It's a kind of defiance," she says. "To hell with all you nutritionists-I'm going to have my steak. It's not just ambience sending these macho eaters to the steakhouse. Steak really does taste better in a restaurant, partly because the meat is better there. Only 3 percent to 4 percent of the country's beef is graded prime, and it goes mostly to commercial steakhouses. The flavor is often enhanced by dry aging. "The difference is night and day," says Henry Meer, chef and owner of the restaurant City Hall in New York. Beware, though, say nutritionists, of portion size. The Food Guide Pyramid recommends two to three 3-ounce servings of protein a day. But, says Bonnie Liebman, director of nutrition at the Center for Science in the Public Interest, "if you can find a restaurant offering a 3-ounce serving of steak, it's probably a kiddie meal." A 14-ounce steak is pretty typical. Amy Lanou, nutrition director for the Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine, which promotes a plan-based diet, describes "the steak-and-potato power meal" as "the hallmark of the heart attack plate". A 14-ounce T-bone, she points out, has 1,236 calories 93 grams of fat, and 268 milligrams of cholesterol. Yet keep in mind that some cuts are kinder than others, with sirloin among the leanest. Harvard's Watson says that by century's end, steak may be so rare-no pun intended-as to be nearly an endangered species. "Meat eating will become a kind of adventure like puffer fish," he says. For now, though, if you're playing with fire, could you make that steak medium rare? Shared/USNewsWebArt2001