Every great American city deserves a great steakhouse but we confess that steakhouse chains give us pause. We’re especially suspicious when the nationwide roster rises to 50 or more or when the chain trades on associations with various gambling destinations. We get it. Steakhouse spells success, glamour, ostentation. When you walk in, you might think that’s the aroma of beef on the grill, but it’s really the scent of money to burn.

So when our friends in Lexington, Ky., suggested we all go out to eat at the newest pride and joy of downtown, Jeff Ruby’s Steakhouse (101 West Vine St., Lexington, Ky.; 859-554-7000; jeffruby.com/lexington), we kept our expectations in check. The Lexington incarnation, after all, was following versions in Louisville, Nashville, and Columbus, Ohio. They in turn traced their lineage to Jeff Ruby’s Cincinnati and Mr. Ruby’s longest-running Cincinnati fine-dining establishment, The Precinct.

Shame on us for doubting. We’re not against steakhouses. We adore Boston’s Grill 23 (grill23.com), where world-class beef and world-class wine make benchmark meals. Just as that Back Bay joint is the perfect Boston iteration of steakhouse, Jeff Ruby’s fits Lexington like bespoke silks on a champion jockey. Thanks to great sightlines and splashy murals, it’s colorful and brash without the gilded excess of Vegas or Atlantic City establishments. Themed dining rooms pay appropriate homage to Kentucky Wildcats sports teams, horse breeding and racing, and the local bourbon industry. The place teems with activity—people chatting and drinking and chowing down on massive slabs of beef. And just for a little extra drama, if you happen to order shrimp and grits, a server finishes it tableside with a dramatic WHOOF! of flame.

Premier drinks and prime beef head up substantive menus

As you’d expect, the drinks—especially the bourbon drinks—are spot-on. Whiskey (and whisky) choices are exemplary, and while cognac isn’t quite as inclusive, each category has a Big Spender option of one-ounce pours. In bourbon, it’s Pappy Van Winkle 20 Year Old ($185); in cognac, Remy Martin Louis XIII ($225). The Scotch premier pour is MacCallan 25 Year for $300, but it’s a full shot.

Draft beers are mainly local, including a house smoked amber brewed for Jeff Ruby’s by Taft’s Brewing Company in Cincinnati.

The real focus, however, is on the meat. All the Jeff Ruby’s steaks are USDA Prime. The most massive—the 22 ounce ribeye, the 24 ounce porterhouse, and the 30-ounce tomahawk—are hung and dry-aged for 45 to 65 days. We didn’t even ask about the Japanese F1 Wagyu, which is cut to order and priced by the ounce. Mind you, each of these steaks makes a meal big enough to put a python to sleep for a month. There are, naturally, some smaller selections. David ordered a classic Delmonico (“only” 16 ounces) with horseradish sauce—and took back half of it to stash in the hotel refrigerator for next-day sandwiches. It was deeply beefy, exceedingly tender without being mushy, and fully satisfying.

Ah, but Pat really hit the jackpot. As her entree, she ordered the Wagyu meatball on polenta with something called “Southern tomato gravy.” Roughly the size of a baseball, the succulent beef was a true taste sensation and the gravy—somewhere between a ragù and brown gravy—was a perfect salty complement. Bravo, Jeff Ruby!