In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention before beginning this review that I am a beef fan.

It runs in the family. My dad was raised on a cattle ranch that my uncle still runs, and I've had enough brisket, roast and steak in my time to decimate a small herd.

Therefore, it's possible that I approached this week's restaurant, Texas Roadhouse, positively biased by my love of red meat. Or, more likely, I'm more critical of a beef-centric restaurant than any other kind, because I've had a wide pool of experience with which to compare it.

But if my inner critic was more sharp than usual, Texas Roadhouse rose to the challenge. There is a casual, borderline-rowdy atmosphere and attentive service. Prices compare favorably with similar steak joints. But the high point is the food.

I had the filet medallions, three 3-ounce tenderloins cooked to medium-rare perfection. Excellent sear on the outside, melt-in-your-mouth tender on the inside. Perfectly seasoned — which in my opinion is hardly seasoned at all. If the meat is good enough, chefs should let it speak for itself.

My husband had the sirloin steak and ribs. He likes his steaks medium-well, which is borderline blasphemous in my clan. Luckily for him, Texas Roadhouse chefs know how to cook a steak medium-well and retain a surprising amount of juicy tenderness.

Although the steak was good, the ribs were the highlight of that plate. I'd read the phrase "so tender it was falling off the bone," but I'd never experienced it until Texas Roadhouse. The ribs are meaty, seasoned and brushed with Texas Roadhouse's own barbecue sauce. It's sharper than most sauces, with a tangy top note and smoky finish.

Of course, we had other things besides beef: homemade rolls with cinnamon-honey butter that was at our table as we sat down; the fresh-mashed spuds and crispy Caesar salad my husband ordered; and the crisp-tender veggies and spicy baked beans that accompanied my filets. The filets also came nestled in a bed of delicious seasoned rice — buttery, beefy and full of onions.

We also had an appetizer sampler, in which Texas Roadhouse put a creative spin on some restaurant standards. The chicken fingers were dipped in the restaurant's "signature" batter, a thin coating of light seasoning that let the savory chicken shine. The potato skins were the standard recipe, generously sized and topped. And the poppers, called "rattlesnake bites," were a real departure. They're basically a fiery, cheesy hush puppy.