When in America, you expect to be able to eat large bits of meat, don’t you? You maybe hope that it’s not GM and that you are getting more good protein into you rather than the hormones that were given to the poor moo-cow in the first place, but if you start dwelling on things like that you’re starting down a long slippery slope into angst, self-doubt and eventual veganism. Trust me, I’ve been there and back, and it’s not pretty.

The entrance to Morton’s, likewise, is not what one would call pretty. Post street is not particularly picturesque as San Fran streets go, but I felt comfortable in an European-street kind of way. Then I stepped in through a promising doorway onto a tiny landing with steps disappearing into the basement. And on to a crowded large hall full of tables, with strange displays in between, which reminded me of the crab-seasoning and clam chowder displays in the middle of some east coast/Baltimore eateries. Side rooms had sliding doors, and I got the occasional sight of private parties within.

So, I guess the place loses half a point in the ambience (US!) category, as also the fact that there’s not really enough place for waitresses and serving carts and similar paraphernalia among the tables and pillars and stuff. On the other hand , the decor includes a display of meat at one end, though I’m not sure it was intentional, as there was some traffic of the stuff at the kitchen end of the hall. Also, wonderfully, there was a tariff board up on the wall listing the sorts of things you could order. For a hundred-odd dollars, you can order a 48 oz steak - that’s right, forty eight ounces! A kilo and a half!!

Our steaks were a lot more manageable. They have a very quirky method of asking you how you want yours done. They ask you to describe what it looks like when it’s done the way you prefer, then they come up with uniquely American ways of describing it, using words like double-extra-fine and super and what-not. Or maybe that was just for us yokel tourists. Whatever it was, it worked: the steaks were excellent. They “butterflied” mine, splitting the meat chunk in two and leaving the centre a touch pink.

Bread came first, in a foot-diameter circular “loaf”: other tables shared their loaves by just breaking bits off, but we very properly sliced ours into quarters using the only knives we got - massive serrated edged steak knives, even for the starter bread! These were replaced by more identical knives for the steaks. They came in useful for the only vegetable provided with the steaks - enormous heads of steamed broccoli, the size of which was a source of amusement in itself. Maybe we’d been sampling a little too much of the excellent red wine - the grapes grown not too far away. Despite the overall fel of the place, it was easy to feel relaxed: the staff were friendly, courteous and very helpful when I thought I’d lost my phone.

If you’re going to San Francisco and aren’t wearing flowers in your hair, go visit the Morton’s steak house. It’s worth a visit. Whether you’ll go back or not, I think, will be an individual choice, depending on how much you liked the tasty steaks vs the experience of the place.

I had to book dinner for ten people on a moment’s notice, and I cowered in fear of ending up at a chain like Cheesecake Factory or worse… My trepidation didn’t lessen when we landed a spot at Morton’s, yet another chain, and one that’s disappointed me severely in the past.

And I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised. Very pleasantly.

Service was top notch from start to finish, whether it was having cocktails at the bar, being seated by the scary-but-friendly maitre’d with a plastic-surgery addiction, or having the menu patiently explained to a few non-native English speakers.

The starters were all tasty, even the startlingly fresh Blue Point oysters. Our steaks were just about perfect - a stark contrast to past visits at other locations. The wine service was very competent - again, a stark contrast to the past, and highly important when you have a Frenchman selecting the wines.

The only negative mark I’d give is to the sides. Other than the creamed spinach and potatoes Lyonnaise, they were bland and unimaginative. But then, this is a steakhouse after all.

For 30 years, they have served only the finest quality foods, featuring USDA prime-aged beef, fresh fish and seafood, hand-picked produce, delicious appetizers and elegant desserts.

Travelling with a group of hungry Swedes can be quite a daunting experience, however I must admit that Morton’s Steakhouse is the only place where I have seen my colleagues (to a man) not completely clean their plates.

The whole Morton’s experience is superbly impressive. From being shown to your table, the restaurant is clearly centered around both the quality of the food and the service.

I have to say that the waiters are possibly the most accomplished among all the waiters I have ever experienced. Their sheer knowledge of the food, its preparation and suggested side orders and wines is exceptional.

The waiters are clearly used to the less than educated palette and helpfully have a selection of the meats and the various cuts to assist in the diner’s choice - and Morton’s caters for pretty much most cuts of steak you can think of. Similarly the wine list is extensive and tailored to bringing the most from the meats.

There are non-meat courses available as well (although, why would you come to a steakhouse!). You tend to order only a couple of side dishes to accompany your steak - I can recommend the wild mushrooms (they are to die for!)

As a european travelling in the US, the prices are very competitive and considering the superb quality (and quantity) of the food and wine on offer I have no qualms about highly recommending Morton’s.

(I even liked it so much I bought their Steak Bible cookbook!)