A restaurant like this, arriving in New York, might feel purpose-made for the touristic vacuousness of Times Square. But Golden Steer has instead opened downtown, at the weighty Art Deco address of 1 Fifth Avenue, just above Washington Square Park, and with this positioning it strives for an unexpected gravitas, a seriousness of purpose that a midtown address couldn’t have provided. The low-ceilinged, labyrinthine space (previously housing Mark Forgione’s One Fifth, and before that the much-beloved Batali pizza joint Otto) is all dark glamour, a dining room of appealingly cigar-ish masculinity. Here, as in Las Vegas, the restaurant is a museum of sorts, but it works: it’s zazzy, it’s kitschy, it’s fun. Tuxedoed servers wear playing-card pins on their lapels; a slot machine in the entryway shaped like a life-size Doc Holliday gazes at diners with uncanny intensity. Frosted-glass sconces on the walls bear bas-relief nudes in classical repose. The theatre of it all—the silly drama, the amusement—has survived the cross-country move gloriously intact.