The scene around us, though, didn't square with classical notions of cow palace luxury. No white tablecloths or servers in black bowties. No plush, tufted banquettes or sedan-size booths. None of the usual intimations of money and power whirling through the air like cigar smoke. Instead, the space brought to mind a tiny pub on a European side street. Lined with russet-colored brick on one side and a bar built of mixed woods on the other, the room at Boeufhaus seats only 34. Like the trappings, the cuisine at Boeufhaus defies steakhouse convention. Chef-owners Brian Ahern and Jamie Finnegan nail the quintessential chophouse meal: beef tartare and chilled seafood to begin, baller steaks and hedonistic sides, comforting excesses for dessert.