For proof, just look at the customers: the ranch couples celebrating big anniversaries, the sharp-eyed cattle buyers on business trips. They aren't the type who smile for nothing, these folks, or who like to come off as frivolous. But as they sip their whiskey sours and tuck into their old-school shrimp cocktails, it's clear that they've found a sweet spot between luxury and value. Then their steaks come—not Texas-style monsters that flop out over the edges of the plates, but sensibly generous Montana steaks that stand up thick and proper and don't boast. The twice-baked potatoes, grown just down the road near the town of Manhattan and cooked in 50-pound batches, don't boast either. They're rich, not big, full of parmesan and bacon, and delivered to the table as often as not by Beth McCurry, a longtime waitress here, who bought the place with her husband, Jay (a high school shop teacher), nearly six years ago. They kept the old recipes, which go back decades, and they also kept the name, of course.
The Land of Magic—I chuckled when I first heard it. How could a place live up to such a name?
Land of Magic Steakhouse: $$$; 11060 Front St., Logan; landofmagicsteakhouse.com