Feb. 14 (Bloomberg) -- What this country needs is a good $40 steak. Nice char. Beefy flavor. Frou-frou free.

Harry's Steak -- even the name is no-nonsense -- has it.

No bovine beauty contests, grass-fed versus grain-fed. No identifying the state (or in the case of wagyu, the prefecture) of origin. No pointless personal information. Harry Poulakakos doesn't pretend to be operating a dining dating service where man meets cow.

Poulakakos has been in the financial district for 50 years, starting out as a busboy at Delmonico's. To me, he's one of the Big Three in Wall Street history: Politics, Peter Stuyvesant. Finance, J.P. Morgan. Food, Harry.

At his steakhouse, you're offered the Big Four: strip, rib, porterhouse, filet. All were first-rate -- although the loin on the porterhouse was a little gristly. Except for that, the meat was tender, juicy and clearly prime, maybe not the tangiest I've ever eaten but entirely satisfying. The hash browns were crusty, the spinach velvety, the cheesecake smooth.

This place gets the basics right. Otherwise, expect setbacks. The crab cake is very fresh, although at $16.50 it should be entirely jumbo lump, and the coral-colored sauce should not be insipid. The roasted clams were a little tough -- have them raw.

Shrimp and oysters were steakhouse standards, decent enough. The too-sweet steak sauce is routine, too, best skipped, like most steakhouse sauces.

I've had meals with more personality. In fact, most meals I've eaten have had more personality. Nor do the furnishings thrill, but of late I've had so many disappointing steaks in dazzling places I embrace the dullness of this decor.

Underground Beef

Harry's Steak is a renovated wine cellar, a little below ground. It's brown. A few steps above is Harry's Cafe. They have different addresses but are connected. The cafe is brown, too. Harry's decorator sure loves earth tones.

The steakhouse has an added feature, cartoonish murals of intoxicated, wine-making monks. It's a hopeless but gallant attempt to infuse charm into a cavelike setting.

The cafe has a LeRoy Neiman painting. Come to think of it, the murals aren't so bad.

Regardless of his taste in art, give Harry credit. He never falters. He's opened places. Sold places. Opened more. Bayard's, his most upscale spot, is now used only for private events, a victim of locals who seem uninterested in spending their more than adequate salaries on fancy food.

Wine Renown

He's famous for his wine lists. There's a basic one for the cafe and a ``select'' one for the steakhouse. I prefer the cafe's, which offers more interesting selections.

The organization of the cafe list, however, is nonsensical. The reds are categorized as ``smooth,' ``rich & full body'' and ``spicy & robust.'' (The whites get four classifications.) Nobody thinks that way when ordering wine. Try the 2005 Oyster Bay sauvignon blanc ($30), the 2004 Hiedler gruener veltliner ($29), and the 2004 Argiano ``Non Confunditor'' (a $42 red).

The select list is packed with Bordeaux, Burgundy and cabernet sauvignon, high-priced but not unreasonably so. Harry's lists used to be filled with steals. I can't say I found any this time around.

The best eating in the cafe tends to be items closely related to the steakhouse: shrimp, oysters and a filet mignon tartare with black truffles and truffle oil that would be better without the oil. The menu offers something for everybody but suffers from its ambition: too many choices, too many flaws.

The onion soup was a beefy broth sweetened with onions and topped with a bargelike crouton. The noodles and the filet mignon in the Stroganoff were just right, but the sauce was brown, nothing more, and the bale of dill plopped on top was weird.

Fatty and Dry

The ``crackling'' pork shank managed to be both excessively fatty and excessively dry. (Spicy apple sauce in a Mason jar came to the rescue.) A mystery to rival that of the peculiar pork was the oddly overcooked oysters -- light gold on the outside, dry within.

The ``hibachi style kabobs'' are cute, but the hibachi that appears with them is irrelevant, since all kabobs (chicken, shrimp, sirloin) arrive fully cooked.

The Greek salad with white anchovies is striking, notwithstanding mushy February tomatoes, and a bargain at $10.50. It arrives on a three-cornered plate in a snappy nouvelle arrangement. The curried lamb stew, spicy and luscious, had a tomato-based sauce so bafflingly superior to that of the Stroganoff that I wondered if there had been a shift change in the kitchen while my meal was being prepared.

Service is less polished in the cafe. Vacuuming under tables during dessert did not add to my enjoyment of the gelatos, which are flavorful.

The cafe has theater-style spots that encourage talented diners such as myself to make shadow puppets on the wood-grain tabletops. I was amused. I can't say the same for my guests.

The Bloomberg Questions

Cost? Cafe prices range from $7.50 for onion soup to $29.50 for a kobe flat-iron steak. In the steakhouse, house-made Canadian bacon -- really a meaty smoked pork chop -- is a steal at $8, and the porterhouse steak for two is $82.

Sound level? The cafe rumbles, like a school dining hall. In the steakhouse, beware of traders erupting in mirth.

Date place? Not even close.

Tip? Double-check to be sure your reservation is in the right place -- a single phone number serves both. One of my meals went bad when my guest waited in the cafe while I was in the steakhouse. An employee confirmed that mistakes do take place.

Special feature? If the lifestyle depicted in ``The Count of Monte Cristo'' intrigues you, reserve one of the two cramped tables in the steakhouse's dungeon-like back room.

Lunch? Yes.

Will I be back? For rib steak, hash browns and spinach, creamed or sauteed.

Harry's Steak is at 97 Pearl St., Harry's Cafe at One Hanover Square. Information: +1-212-785-9200 or http://www.harrysnyc.com.

(Alan Richman is a restaurant critic for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this story: Alan Richman at thecritic@optonline.net.

Last Updated: February 14, 2007 00:08 EST