Ethan Qin ’26 hates seafood. Clare Gifford ’26 recently became vegetarian. These are the kinds of details you only learn after spending time with people. This was the kind of time I was lucky enough to have a few weeks ago when my boss and colleague from The Flat Hat joined me for lunch. This article is a collaboration with Clare. She will be sharing her experiences with the appetizers and deserts, and I will touch on the main course and general ambiance of the restaurant.
Opus 9, a steakhouse off-campus in New Town, was not an accidental choice. I already knew that Ethan was a steak fanatic — the kind of person who can tell you the difference between a ribeye and a strip just by the marbling. I knew he was a meat expert when he gave me a lecture on how to determine a good steak during our most recent Costco trip. So, I wanted to watch him in his natural habitat.
Clare’s invite was a different story. I invited her because I’ve heard that she was an incredible writer, and I thought this lunch would be a good excuse to pick her brain and, perhaps, get some ideas on writing. Only later did I realize that she no longer ate meat. But instead of the meal being awkward, this gave me a new perspective on a steakhouse meal from a vegetarian’s point of view.
We showed up in smart casual attire, slightly overdressed for the time of day, but we were reassured in our clothing choices upon seeing the servers clad in collared shirts and black ties. The dining room struck me as old-money and classy. Clean lines, dark wood and a soft hush that tells you the place is serious about dinner. Though, it feels important to reiterate that we were there at around noon and the open windows across from our table revealed a parking lot. Nevertheless, Opus 9 seemed built for milestones, and I recommend it to students looking to bring their parents for a celebration, families wanting to bond or couples on a second or third date looking to impress. Lunch was pleasant, but it is clear that dinner is where this restaurant thrives.
Our server Anna was the kind of professional who makes a meal better just by being there. She guided us through the menu with a cool confidence, listening to my wants and needs before guiding me toward choices I might have overlooked. At first, I was paralyzed by the options on the appetizer menu, but Anna pointed us toward the sliced ahi tuna and jumbo barbeque shrimp laid on a toasted slice of baguette.
The shrimp arrived first; it was a small dish that smelled like butter and white wine, with toasted baguette slices that held the shrimp above the rich sauce like a raft. It was creamy yet bright, simple yet satisfying. Our sashimi-style tuna dish followed. The bright red innards and flame-charged skin did exactly what an appetizer should do for the palate.
Ethan ordered the ribeye, I went with the filet mignon and Clare opted for the caprese salad — one of the only non-meat options on the menu. Both steaks were cooked to medium-rare, though not with the best technique. I would note that if you come to Opus 9 expecting top-quality cuts, you may leave disappointed. The staff checked in often to make sure everything was to our liking, but the steaks were ultimately poorly cooked. The meat itself did not match the service and appetizers.
Alas, time for dessert — a molten lava cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side, and the undeniable star of the meal: a bananas foster, which was kindly given to us on the house. The lava cake leaned traditional, with a thick fudgy inside and a crisp brownie outside. Its symphony of sweetness was light enough to justify one more bite even after a full steak. The ice cream atop the lava cake far exceeded our expectations for a steakhouse, too. The dish was cold, creamy and undeniably comforting after the unpleasant, tough texture of the steaks.
Then out came the bananas foster on fire, which I would say was the restaurant’s highlight of confidence. This dish turned the table into a theater. Our server brought it with majestic confidence; the butter and sugar were already sizzling, filling the air with the smell of caramel. When the rum hit the plate, flames shot up in a flash of blue-orange fire, and, for a brief moment, we were all wide-eyed kids at a magic show. Ever the critic, Clare found that the taste of lighter fuel overwhelmed the caramelized bananas upon her first bite.
It was clear now that we had reached the end of our meal. Ethan was looking at his watch, already running late for another meeting. So, we shoveled spoonfuls of lava cake and flamed bananas into our mouth at near record speed, which made the dessert taste even better, and sped out the door. There was something joyful about racing against the clock. It was like stealing one last bite before the curtain fell.
Opus 9 Steakhouse delivers the kind of meal that feels like a small occasion. The service elevates the whole experience, and the bananas foster is worth ordering just for the fire show. Next time, I will make a dinner reservation, slow down and let the meal unfold at the pace it deserves. But even in a rush, Opus managed to turn a weekend lunch into something memorable. Most importantly, thank you Ethan and Clare for making my lunch less lonely.
