Steaks, steaks and more steaks

Here’s a recipe for a perfect late-summer day (Indian or otherwise): Drive up through Nevada City and find a good spot on the South Yuba River. The water is translucent and blue-green in shallow spots and so magnificent it makes the American and Sacramento rivers seem like dirty, silty bro conduits.

Then, after a day spent swimming and drinking weak beer in the sun, pile back into the car and head a few miles up Highway 49 to The Willo, where a neon sign of a green martini glass with a bright-pink olive beckons as your cue to turn in to the gravel lot, which is usually packed, especially on a Friday or Saturday night. Reservations are strongly recommended.

Still, on a recent Saturday, my party of nine, sans reservation, was welcomed into the back banquet room. While it was a bit of a bummer to be tucked into this quiet room rather than the buzzing main room, we took what we could get. The front room is decorated in lacquered wood photos of iconic images such as Elvis and the Golden Gate Bridge, but its central eye-catching feature is a brick-lined grill pit that is huge and stocked with glowing coals and tended out in the open. Here, The Willo’s grillers are constantly flipping and searing chops, ribs, garlic bread, and steaks, steaks, and more steaks.

The menu is simple, centered on a slab of meat with starchy sides—although the restaurant has added a veggie burger to its lineup. While the thick, smoky pork chop and the tender, butterflied half-chicken suffice, at The Willo, it’s really all about the New York strip steak offered in small (8 ounce), medium (12 ounce) and large (16 ounce) portions.

The menu claims that the restaurant has served more than 1 million steaks, and that figure seems high until you consider that The Willo’s history goes back 65 years. It started as a bar inside a refashioned World War II-era Quonset hut and, through a series of permutations, went from being a bar to being a bar with a hamburger window to its current incarnation as a steak house with a bar attached.

Another one of the menu’s charming features is its “you cook” and “we cook” price categories—you can save 50 cents by grilling your own steak.

I prefer to sit back and be cooked for, and as I wait, the server brings me a Manhattan “up” (no ice) in a precious little shaker. He pours it into a small martini glass that’s a reminder that sodas aren’t the only things that have been supersized over the years.

This decidedly nonartisanal cocktail works its boozy magic as my steak arrives. It’s peppery and fat-rimmed, with a grainy bite.

When it comes to ordering the steak, it’s best to stick to the rare or medium-rare side of the spectrum to make sure it’s not dry. The included sides are sweet ranch beans; fluffy, charred garlic bread; and an all-iceberg salad. Remember Catalina dressing? The Willo still offers it, and it’s still too sweet—opt for the blue cheese instead; there will be plenty extra to dip your steak in, if you swing that way.

A single scoop of ultracreamy coffee ice cream is included at the end, and coffee is offered. One companion compared its taste to “breakfast cereal set on fire,” so you might want to abstain, but it’s all part of the old-school charm.

If you’re not the designated driver, slip into the bar for a shot to lull you during the long drive home. The sassy bartender will fix you right up as you take in the curving walls of this prefab structure from a long-gone era, the E Clampus Vitus plaques and the regulars’ birthdays listed on the wall. Luckily, a few bastions of culinary Americana such as The Willo are still going strong, and we should honor them while we can.