You walk into a steakhouse in Texas and you think you know the drill. Dark wood, a taxidermied longhorn over the bar, and a menu that reads like a livestock census. But honestly, Myron’s Prime Steakhouse in San Antonio hits a little different. It’s located in the Alon Town Centre, which, if you aren't from around here, is a classy little hub at the corner of NW Military Highway and Wurzbach Parkway.
Most people think "prime" is just a marketing buzzword. It’s not. Only about 2% of all beef in the U.S. gets that USDA Prime stamp, and Myron’s is obsessed with it. Bill Been, the owner (and yeah, his first name is actually Myron), has been in the game since the late 70s. He’s worked the floor at the Old San Francisco Steak House and Ruth’s Chris, so he’s seen the corporate side and the old-school side. When he and his wife Jo Anna opened Myron’s, they basically decided to keep the quality of the big chains but ditch the "cog in a machine" vibe.
The Chicago Connection and That 1,200-Degree Sear
If you're hunting for the best steak in the Alamo City, you've probably heard of the "Chicago Prime" beef Myron’s serves. They get their meat from Meats by Linz out of Chicago, which is basically the gold standard for high-end chophouses. But the meat is only half the story.
They use a 1,200-degree infrared broiler. Why does that matter? Because at that heat, the outside of the steak doesn't just "cook"—it undergoes a chemical reaction that creates a crust so salty and savory it'll make you forget every mediocre sirloin you've ever had.
- The Wet-Aging Factor: They wet-age their beef for 28 days. This allows the enzymes to break down the connective tissue without losing the moisture you'd lose in dry-aging.
- The Butter Sizzle: Like the classic high-end houses, they finish the steak with a touch of butter on a plate that’s roughly 500 degrees. If it doesn't sizzle when it hits the table, something is wrong.
Why the Sides at Myron's Prime Steakhouse in San Antonio Spark Debates
You’ll find people who swear by the Jalapeño Mac n Cheese. A horse show announcer once called it "life-changing," which is a lot of pressure for a side of pasta. It’s creamy, it’s got a kick, and it’s unapologetically heavy.
Then there are the Shoestring Potatoes. They arrive at the table looking like a blonde wig—a massive, tangled mound of thin, crispy salt delivery vehicles.
Kinda funny thing though—not everyone is a fan of the sides. You'll occasionally see a local critic or a grumpy Redditor complain that the creamed spinach is too "mushy" or the tomatoes in the salad aren't ripe enough. It happens. When you're paying $60+ for a Bone-In Ribeye, you want the tomato to be perfect. Myron’s usually makes up for it with the service, which is that "team style" where three people might refill your water before you even realize it’s half empty.
The Vibe: Texas Modern vs. Movie Theater History
There’s a bit of confusion because there are two Myron’s. The original is in New Braunfels, housed in an old 1920s movie theater called the Palace. It’s got tin ceilings and you can actually dine in the old projection booth.
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The San Antonio location is "Texas Modern." It’s sleek. There’s a huge bar, outdoor seating, and a wine room that holds hundreds of bottles. It’s the kind of place where you’ll see a guy in a tailored suit next to a guy in a nice pair of jeans and Lucchese boots. That’s San Antonio for you.
What to Actually Order (The Insider’s List)
- The Bone-In Filet: If they have it, get it. The bone adds a depth of flavor that a standard filet just can't touch.
- Shrimp Myron: It’s their signature appetizer. It’s got a bit of a spicy, buttery sauce that you’ll want to dip your bread in.
- The Iceberg Wedge: Every entree comes with a wheel of iceberg lettuce. Pro tip from Bill Been himself: ask for it topped with those shoestring potatoes. It sounds weird. It works.
- The "Seabiscuit" or "Mustang" Rooms: If you’re hosting a group, these private rooms are actually private, not just a curtain pulled across a corner.
The Reality Check
Look, Myron’s isn’t cheap. You’re going to spend money. If you’re looking for a budget steak, go to Texas Roadhouse. But if you want to know what it’s like to eat a piece of beef that has been hand-selected and seared at temperatures usually reserved for welding, this is the spot.
One thing people get wrong is thinking it’s a stuffy "members only" vibe. It’s not. It’s family-run. Bill and Jo Anna’s kids and grandkids are involved in the business. It feels like a local spot because it is.
Actionable Next Steps for Your Visit
- Book Early: Especially on weekends. They use OpenTable, and the prime slots (7:00 PM) fill up days in advance.
- Check the Wine List: They have won the Wine Spectator Award of Excellence multiple times. Don't just order the house red; ask the server for a pairing that can stand up to the char of the steak.
- Don't Ask for Well-Done: Seriously. The menu literally says "NOT recommended" under the well-done section. If you want it cooked through, they’ll do it, but you’re kind of missing the point of the Prime beef.
- Save Room for the Bread Pudding: It’s served with a Maker’s Mark sauce that is heavy on the bourbon. You might need a ride home.
The Myron’s Prime Steakhouse in San Antonio experience is really about the consistency. While other trendy spots in the Pearl or Southtown might have more "flair," Myron’s sticks to the script: great beef, hot plates, and heavy pours. It’s a San Antonio staple for a reason.