If you’re the type who sets store by this sort of thing, you’d say the stars were lined up for the opening of new steakhouse Prime Society: the chef is a buff South African by the name of Bryan Burger, and the surname of the sassy PR rep is Moo. 

Meanwhile, the restaurant’s location is inspired. What was once an out-of-the-way schlep known only for its teak furniture, dingy carpet emporia and Samy’s fish-head curry, the entire Dempsey Road enclave has, in just a year, been transformed into a smorgasbord of lively bars, organic cafés, spas and zhuzhi restaurants. A perfect spot, in fact, for a casual, mid-priced, testosterone-charged steakhouse. 

Anchoring the space – formerly a British Army barracks – is a large, open kitchen behind which the cooks perform their balletic pirouettes. My first two visits were marred by the kitchen’s poor ventilation, but things had improved by the third visit. Still, to be on the safe side, keep your nice clothes at home. In any case, the place is so casual that Bermudas and flip-flops sit happily with the dressier set, even at night. On the weekends, the mood is even more laid back as the expat crowd, kids in tow, turn up in force for the restaurant’s fry-ups like steak sandwiches, and eggs and sausages. 

It comes as no surprise that the compact menu is almost exclusively meat-based; the bland Caesar salad (not enough garlic and salt, and barely a sniff of anchovies), grilled Portobello, a lone pasta, and sides of greens and fries are the only concessions to vegetarians. But who goes to a steakhouse for vegetables? 

The meats come from a variety of sources: the pork from Germany and steaks from Australia, though the kitchen is aiming to change suppliers to the good old US of A. On this point, marks off to the wait-staff for not knowing the provenance of their meats when I asked. 

The steaks are cooked and served to the table on fragrant oak planks – a technique favoured by South Americans and supposedly the first of its kind in Singapore – and accompanied by assorted grilled vegetables (usually carrots, tomato and zucchini) and a small mound of fries. And with the most expensive item on the menu being the filet mignon – $36 for a 160- gram slab, and $42 for the 220g cut – expect a fairly substantial meal that won’t have you thinking nervously of your wallet the way an outing to Morton’s does. 

Without exception, steaks were cooked to the precise doneness requested. The fries were particularly well done; signposted by a satisfying crunch, followed by the hit of pepper and creamy interiors – I have a sneaking suspicion that they’re fried in a kind of rendered fat, rather than vegetable oil, as my waiter insisted. 

Between courses, I kept myself amused trying to identify the wallpaper of German military medals on one visit, and parsing the mural of Greek and medieval soldiers on another, while trying to discretely see who B-list celeb Shan Wee was canoodling with at the next table. That said, I could have done without the loud lounge music during a weekday lunch that made me feel as if I should be clothes shopping rather than concentrating on my lovely drink of lemon, lime and bitters. 

The Steak Samie Supreme, when it arrived, was highlighted by a crunchy ciabatta, though the meagre serving of thin grilled sirloin strips were a little overwhelmed by the delicious combo of mustard, Camembert and sun-dried tomato pesto. Also less well done were the pork ribs. These were almost paper-dry, with none of the fatty succulence that makes the dish such a guilty, sloppy indulgence. Kudos, however, to the kitchen for its inventive choice of marinades; among them champagne-apple, Vietnamese liquorice, and chilli oil and galangal. Even the steaks are accompanied by a side serving of sauces like béarnaise, blue cheese butter and herb butter. 

The dessert list is disappointingly lacklustre and could do with an immediate revamp. The vanilla and coconut crème caramel ran out at one lunch, and at another, its execution, though competent, didn’t live up to the waiter’s hype. Even the Prime Piña Colada – vanilla bean ice cream in a martini glass lined with thinly sliced pineapple (pompously described in the menu as carpaccio) and topped with a weak coconut foam – suffered from inconsistency. Of the three occasions I had it, only once did it live up to its potential, thanks to a liberal grind of pepper over the pineapple, which gave the concoction its unexpected dazzle. 

Surprise of the day: one of the best dishes was the linguine, simply sautéed with a delicious creamy sauce of blue cheese and avocado, and flavoured by a generous shower of field mushrooms. But, as with the vegetables, who goes to a steakhouse for pasta? 

Main courses $22-$42.

Go to our venue listing for Prime Society.