the monkey murals date from the 1930s, but Monkey Bar owes its gaudily classic look as much to David Rockwell, who redesigned the space in 1994, as to the sands of time. Even since the redesign, the goofy simians gazing from the bar’s walls have seen their share of history, including a series of impressive chefs and a slightly ungainly rebranding last year as “The Steakhouse At Monkey Bar.” The latest development at the 72-year-old Midtown institution was the installment of the talented Julian Clauss-Ehlers this summer as chef de cuisine by executive chef David Walzog, who also runs sister steakeries Michael Jordan’s and Strip House. Mr. Clauss-Ehlers has an excellent resume as well: at the helms of Menu, Link, and Zitoune he thrilled diners, and he brings a careful artistry to the kitchen here, offering some surprisingly fine ingredients and preparations.

Despite the steakhouse name, Monkey Bar caters to an array of tastes: groups of men in ties get the unadorned slabs of beef and big reds they crave, but lighter, craftier dishes such as seared scallops or duck breast are decidedly not second-rate citizens of the menu. The clientele is accordingly mixed. Evenings after work, the bar throngs with shoulder-to-shoulder executives; a percentage of these drift into the restaurant after a drink or two, where they join guests from the attached Hotel Elysee, couples on first dates, and a smattering of well-off regulars. Diners enter through the muraled bar into a colorful dining room whose tiers and well-spaced tables give a sense of luxury and openness; wrought monkeys frolicking on the handrails and light fixtures extend the bar’s whimsy into the restaurant. The youngish, buoyant staff provides skillful service with no lack of affability, although large, demanding tables tend to monopolize the waiters’ attention when the evening is in full swing.

Dinner begins with a server tonging out a large, hot popover for each guest. Though lusciously good – crisp and crusty on the outside, cracking open to reveal steaming moist layers within – it’s an odd choice, the equivalent of starting the meal with a two-egg omelet; popovers half the size might do as well. The new appetizer list includes a number of excellent shellfish choices that show off the outstanding quality of the restaurant’s larder: a shrimp cocktail ($14) comprising three succulent, truly jumbo shrimp and a hearty, tangy cocktail sauce; a hefty portion of small, sweet, littleneck clams ($12) steamed in a lush saffron broth with pieces of chorizo; and the restaurant’s traditional raw-bar “plateau” ($60) that includes lobster, shrimp, crab, oysters, and clams on ice – perfect for a table to share, and for impressing other tables.

The house salad ($9) is a steakhouse comfort-food classic: a big platter of crunchy romaine lettuce tossed in a tart and sultry buttermilk dressing and enlivened with chewy hunks of thick bacon and crumbled Stilton to produce an addictively rich and salty starter.

The nonsteakhouse aspect of the restaurant shines in dishes like wild-mushroom ravioli ($12) – an item that appears, reconstituted and dire, next to mozzarella sticks on many a wretched bar menu. Monkey Bar elevates the dish, enveloping toothsome, discrete mushroom chunks in supple, fresh pasta, with a creamy, delicate pesto sauce that makes one pine for a larger portion.

For the main course, diners choose one of two roads: the menu’s “From The Grill” section features a variety of steaks; other entrees are listed below it. The dry-aged meat is of remarkable quality, and the grill and its operators never fail to do it justice, notably in the case of a strapping medium-rare porterhouse ($37), where high heat enhances the steak’s beefy tang with a mouthwatering dark-brown salt-and-pepper crust. The tenderloin half of this bipartite cut is remarkably buttery and tender, and the top loin only slightly less so; the steak can be dressed up if desired with a choice of sauces: succulent bordelaise, rich Stilton cream, an even richer bearnaise, and Thai-style sweet chile sauce for a lighter, less conventional touch. The excellent filet mignon ($34.50) is meltingly soft, juicy, and mellow, but characteristically without the deep flavor of less tender cuts.

Monkey Bar’s stroke of managerial brilliance, though, is the “Cut Of The Night,” a daily rotating special. All the regular steaks and more can be had – same size, same everything – for just $24, a significant savings that turns a pricey meal into a moderate one. Come on Wednesday for the porterhouse, Friday for the New York strip, and Tuesday for a superlative prime rib steak available only then, cut to order from a larger roast and dripping with flavorful juice.

In classic style, the steaks have only a cursory garnish, and an array of semi-traditional sides (all $6) has been made available to compensate. The restaurant’s take on hash browns stands out: a mound of potato pieces with a delicate interior and a uniquely crunchy shell created by frying the whole mound in goose fat. Spicy braised escarole and truffled creamed spinach give the meal a welcome flourish of green.

Main courses like pan-roasted duck breast ($26) offer a more refined alternative to steak. The lean, meaty, crisp-skinned muscovy breast is sliced and fanned amid perfectly fresh baby vegetables and complemented by a dark, glossy mushroom sauce that adds nuance to the bird’s rich flavor. Large, top-quality sea scallops ($27) receive a consummate sear, flavoring the surface and bringing the flesh just to the point of creaminess. A roasted filet of bass ($26) once again illustrates the simple power of fresh ingredients. The pale, moist fish needs no further accent than its own beautifully crisped skin.

The leather-bound wine book offers something for everyone, from by-the-glass basics like the increasingly ubiquitous bargain Rancho Zabaco zinfandel ($8) and the amped-up Hahn Meritage ($12), perfect for the prime rib, to pleasant by-the-bottle finds like a flowery Matanzas Creek cab on up to impressive Napa reserves and French rarities, such as the 1983 Leoville-Las Cases. The monkey theme mandates a list of tropical-inspired cocktails as well, uncomplementary to the food but excellently crafted, such as the candy like Purple Monkey ($12) made with Chambord and pineapple juice.

Tomas Paulino’s desserts balance the rest of the menu gracefully. A sundae ($8.50) prettily served in a tall pilsner glass layers brilliant-red raspberry sauce, not-too-sweet whipped cream, market fruits like plums and berries, and just a little ice cream. Baked Alaska ($10.50) steals the scene, its pale meringue surface napped, hedgehog-like, with caramel-brown peaks, and concealing a cache of tangy persimmon ice cream.

Though it’s changed a bit over time, Monkey Bar remains able to satisfy a range of tastes very well indeed. Its exceptional meats and exacting professionalism have made it a sudden steakhouse contender without compromising creativity.