It's a matter of perspective when dining at The Forge, Miami Beach's icon of excess. Some view it as our tackiest throwback, while others see it as an oasis of elegance and charm.

From the fac¸ade with its faux gold-rimmed columns flanked by scraggly plastic hedges to the polished wood paneling, crystal chandeliers, nude oil paintings and real Tiffany glass, the place looks more like a bordello than a restaurant.

Like any old dame worth her name, this one has a history, beginning in the 1930s when the place was an actual forge. By the '50s, it was a popular watering hole for celebrities like Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, Arthur Godfrey and Jackie Gleason.

After lawyer Alvin Malnik purchased ''The Old Forge'' in 1969, it continued attracting boldface names, some of the infamous variety, like Malnik's mobster client, Meyer Lansky. By the late '80s, many of the regulars had as much age on them as the vintage wines in the storied cellar.

All that changed after a multimillion-dollar fire in 1991, when the elder Malnik handed the keys to son Shareef. (He'd changed his name from Mark when he married a Saudi princess.) Then 33, the younger Malnik soon made The Forge the in spot for those who have the cash to pay for flash.

Fifteen years on, the prices are still stratospheric and the service theatrical, beginning with solicitous attention from a cadre of tuxedo-clad veterans. Water and wine glasses are filled quickly but not needlessly. Roll your eyes if you must, but the ceremonious lifting of the silver-domed lids to reveal the entrees seems romantic to me. I only wonder why the flatware is cheesy Chinese-made stainless and the glasses industrial-grade.

The food -- classic steak-house fare with a few contemporary additions -- is notable, too, especially when la carte entrees start at $26 and top out at $66. When it comes to spending, it's easy to get carried away with a wine list that reads like a stack of Wine Spectator back issues. Trophy bottles are interspersed with a few affordables, like the $35 Markham chardonnay.

Chef Andrew Swersky, who took over the kitchen nearly two years ago, has a gift for making old-fashioned work. All the retro Continental classics are competently executed, from escargot and lobster bisque to dover sole and lobster thermidor.

A pair of crisp, golden crab cakes served over a rich red-pepper coulis are buttery and moist, though they lack the flavor of the sea that I crave.

A wedge salad is comfort food incarnate, chunky Maytag blue cheese dressing and perfect cubes of smoky applewood bacon over half a head of iceberg lettuce. The chopped salad is a bit prissier, belted by a band of shaved cucumber and dressed with a fine balsamic glaze.

The steaks are what bring the boys in and the house down. Choose from a dozen cuts and know that you can't go wrong. What our waiter described as ''the Ferrari of steaks that ought to be in a showroom in Boca'' was the so-called ultra-trim, a $66 number ordered and delivered perfectly medium-rare that was indeed as tender as a filet and yet full of meaty, minerally flair.

I'd still go for the super steak, 16 ounces of prime New York strip wet-aged in house for three weeks and deftly grilled in nothing but salt and pepper. It's big enough to share, especially with a platter of decadent Parmesan- and white truffle-flecked French fries or an order of luscious, garlicky creamed spinach.

For those who prefer fish, there's a fine sea bass and a decent salmon, but if black grouper, it's a must-order. The chef prepares it with two slabs of tomato and a puddle of tomato jam and avocado puree. The fish itself was immensely fresh, flaky and perfectly seared. Unfortunately, on one visit, the thin Tuscan-grilled snapper was dry.

The signature blacksmith pie can be fridge weary, so soufflés are the way to end a meal. The Grand Marnier version was overwhelmed with lemon zest, but the Belgian chocolate was high, light and pleasantly crusty with a pot of silky chocolate sauce alongside.