This is the place to come if your idea of a good time is downing a premium 22-ounce rib-eye steak ($33) while watching gridiron gladiators grimace and sweat on wall-sized televisions. Some plates even look as if the chef tossed them together during half-time, rushing not to miss the second-half kickoff.

The certified Angus steaks star here, and rightly so. The kitchen sends out superior beef -- including a 16-ounce New York strip ($32), a 20-ounce Kansas City strip ($31), and a 22-ounce Porterhouse ($33) -- cooked just the way you order it.

What's surprising, given the sports-star status of its owner and the high prices, is that Shula's on the Beach lacks a certain polish. Presentations can be haphazard. Some dishes are so mildly seasoned they're bland, as if aimed at guys of a certain age who say spicy food gives them indigestion.

FRIENDLY SERVICE

While service couldn't have been friendlier and more attentive, some plates were only lukewarm by the time they reached our table. The custard base of the creme brulee, a standard dessert in an upscale steak house, was as thick as chilled peanut butter, lacking entirely the smooth creaminess the dish requires.

The flaws are notable given the prices. Most entrees cost more than $25; salads, even a dressed wedge of iceberg, cost $7; and other appetizers range from $9 to $13.

Everything is a la carte. Our steaks were garnished with julienned vegetables, but sides are extra: $4 for a baked potato, rice pilaf or sauteed mushrooms, $5 for garlic mashed potatoes that, at any price, had a poor texture, and $8 for asparagus with hollandaise sauce.

The large, plain dining room at Shula's on the Beach is more casual than many other upscale steak houses. It features plain comforts, such as tailored banquettes, rather than the luxe ostentation of competitors who like to make their customers feel like robber barons. Shula's is the kind of place where a guy can bring a date, or the grandkids, wear short sleeves and comfortable shoes, and, if he feels like it, order a Bud with the red meat.

It's best to order simply here, and that's not hard to do from this menu.

Appetizers include a salad of romaine with a Caesar dressing ($7), shrimp cocktail ($13), oysters on the half shell ($6 for six, $12 for a dozen) and fried calamari ($10).

The best we sampled was the barbecued shrimp in a poblano chile sauce ($13.) Our waiter warned us that this appetizer was very spicy. It wasn't, but was quite appealing. Six large shrimp were served in a deep, dark puddle of sauce that tasted strongly of Worcestershire sauce.

The crab cake ($12) was also good, though some of its accompaniments weren't up to par. One large sweet crab cake with a nicely peppery undertone from fresh cilantro, was served on a bed of corn and black beans. The beans, however, were oddly undercooked and crunchy. A lettuce garnish was past its prime. There's really not much excuse for mistakes like these.

SEAFOOD, PASTA

Entrees do venture beyond steaks and include prime rib ($28 for 16 ounces, $18 for 10), two grilled lamb chops served with apple-mint jelly ($29), and seafood offers such as grilled salmon with rice pilaf ($22) or pan-seared sea bass ($26) with asparagus and a wild mushroom sauce.

One of the three pasta choices, rigatoni with grilled chicken ($16), was one of the best seasoned dishes we tried. Big chunks of tender white meat were tossed in a lightly creamy sauce along with sliced mushrooms and broccoli florets in a dish that tasted pleasantly of garlic and freshly ground black pepper. The broccoli, however, was yellowed and unappealing.

I recommend sticking with the steaks, plain not sauced.

Steak Mary Anne ($32), named for Shula's wife, features two marvelously tender filet mignons in a sauce with shallots, cognac, green peppercorns and a little cream. The filets, as meltingly tender as any steak lover could want, were desecrated by a too-sweet sauce dotted with far too few peppercorns. The Cabernet I'd ordered in anticipation of a Fort Lauderdale approximation of the French steak au poivre was wasted. A Coca-Cola would have suited the dish as well.

But the "cowboy steak" did not disappoint. The rib-eye was 22 ounces of juicy, flavorful perfection. Dine on that and you feel fueled for roping steer or tackling a fullback.

Or, sated, you could just sit back and watch the big boys butting heads on the big screens. awitt@herald.com