This recession-slammed season might seem a ridiculous time to open another pricey steak house on South Beach, and Laurent Tourondel might look like just another celebrity-chef name on the door. But the elegant new BLT Steak fills a need for superior fare and fine service on Ocean Drive, and it is the simplicity and quality Tourondel demands that elevate these highly allocated cuts of cow.

Redone in a chic almond and mahogany palette that defines resort elegance, the dining room at the Betsy Hotel (formerly the Betsy) is outfitted with generously spaced and sumptuously set booths upholstered in cushy ultra-suede. Hand-painted Fortuny Italian silk chandeliers and boxy modern lanterns lend a flattering glow to the well-tended patrons. A blackboard the size of a movie screen with a hand-lettered primer on cuts and grades of beef adds a cozy bistro touch.

Meals begin with complimentary chicken liver paté that is the most luscious Ive sampled. Smeared on toasty sourdough bread, this could be dinner with a nice pour of jammy Left Coast cab from the restrained, under-100-label wine list at two- to three-times-retail prices that dont offend.

Just when you thought you had finished your carb loading, along come Tourondel's unforgettable popovers. As bronzed as the Euro crowd that populates the place and as big as grapefruit, these piping hot, Gruyère-laden delights are even better with sweet butter and a shake of sea salt.

Steakhouse standards include classic shrimp cocktail, by-the-book Caesar salad, golden crab cakes with a baby radish salad in tangy lemon dressing and tuna tartare over creamy avocado crowned with fried shallot nibs. A Boston lettuce with a citrusy dressing is picture perfect but timid; a bolder hamachi with avocado and hearts of palm is a show stealer.

But it is the steaks that have won BLT its reputation from San Juan to Atlanta, Scottsdale to D.C., and they do not disappoint. All that we ordered were gorgeous, cooked to perfect, rosy-centered medium rare. The best was the hefty rib-eye, heavily seasoned and lightly handled, served with the bones in a sizzling cast iron skillet. Superior marbling lends a juicy note to the fine piece of beef.

Buttery creamed spinach brushed with garlic, nutmeg, Gruyère and béchamel or gorgeously seared, cigar-sized asparagus are worthwhile add-ons. Poached green beans are overly seasoned but crisp and fresh.

Though the young talent in the kitchen, chef de cuisine Samuel Gorenstein, has perfected nearly everything on the menu, fried dishes are works in progress. Fries, both waffle and skinny, and a tower of elegantly stacked onion rings needed more crispness.

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So, too, seafood. Simple branzino and crave-worthy Alaskan black cod with a honey glaze were nearly perfect, but a $50 dover sole was marred by a gummy brown butter sauce with soy and capers that leaves a sticky film on the lips.

Service is a cut above. Though I am sure I was outed on at least one visit, the servers treated all the tables in my neighborhood with notable charm and grace.

Steakhouse desserts are often an afterthought or worse, a puerile fantasy of sugary nostalgia, but not here. Complimentary orange blossom madeleines would satisfy a baby sweet tooth, but for connoisseurs of sweet, there is Key lime pannacotta, blueberry meringue pie with lemon sorbet and peanut butter chocolate mousse.

The outrageous crepe souffle combo with pastry cream fused with a brulée torch is at once airy, rich, tart, sweet, creamy, crusty, smooth and rough. Swirled with a soupy sauce the color of a ripe tangerine and topped with a spoonful of superfine sugar, the pretty little package is enough to win over any critic.

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