Why you should experience Steak House No. 316 in Aspen, Colorado.
Steak House No. 316 in Aspen, Colorado, is more than a chophouse, it’s theater wrapped in velvet and candlelight, a moody sanctuary where old-world glamour meets mountain decadence.
Tucked discreetly along East Hopkins Avenue, the restaurant’s crimson façade flickers beneath wrought-iron lanterns like a promise. Step through the door, and the energy changes, sultry jazz hums low, mahogany walls gleam beneath chandeliers, and tables glow with the soft glint of polished silver. It feels less like entering a restaurant and more like stepping back into a time when dinner was an event, when martinis were cold, service was sharp, and a great steak could say everything words couldn’t. The atmosphere is intimate, dark, and intoxicating, with just enough drama to remind you that indulgence is an art form. Each table feels private but alive, every detail intentional, from the crisp weight of the menu to the hush of anticipation when the first cocktail arrives. This is Aspen’s most cinematic dining room, the one where locals, visitors, and celebrities alike come not to be seen, but to feel.
What you didn’t know about Steak House No. 316.
Steak House No. 316 wasn’t born in Aspen, but Aspen made it legendary.
The restaurant’s original outpost opened in Boulder, conceived by owners Craig and Samantha Cordts-Pearce, who had already cemented themselves as Aspen’s hospitality royalty through beloved venues like Wild Fig and The Monarch. When they brought 316 to the mountains, they didn’t just import a steakhouse, they reinvented it. What emerged is a love letter to the classic American supper club, but with the sensual edge only Aspen could inspire. The decor, lush and cinematic, was designed to evoke the clandestine charm of a 1920s speakeasy, red velvet curtains, black-and-white portraits, and candlelight so flattering it feels intentional. The menu, though centered around prime cuts, goes far beyond expectation: bone-in ribeye, wagyu strip, and filet mignon cooked with the precision of a surgeon, alongside decadent sides like truffle mac and cheese, creamed spinach, and lobster mashed potatoes. But it’s the smaller touches, the tableside martini service, the hand-cut ice, the whisper-quiet choreography of the staff, that turn dinner into performance. Every detail reinforces a feeling of ritual, a nod to when dining out meant more than nourishment. In a town that thrives on spectacle, 316 has mastered subtlety. It’s confident enough to whisper, and that whisper fills the room.
How to fold Steak House No. 316 into your trip.
Steak House No. 316 is the dinner you plan your night around, the one that starts slow, deepens with each glass of wine, and ends long after the plates are cleared.
Reserve well ahead, not because it’s trendy, but because it’s revered. Arrive in style, dressed a little sharper than usual, and start at the bar, where the bartenders treat cocktails as craft and ceremony. Order the house martini or the signature Old Fashioned, both chilled perfection, then settle into a corner table where the low lighting makes every conversation feel cinematic. Begin with oysters or the French onion soup, a molten masterpiece under a golden crust. Follow with your steak of choice, the porterhouse if you’re hungry, the bone-in ribeye if you want something transcendent, and let the staff guide you through a wine list that reads like a novel of vintages. Pair your main with roasted mushrooms or lobster mac, then close the night with the chocolate lava cake or classic crème brûlée. Every bite, every sound, every sip feels deliberate, a study in restraint and seduction. Outside, Aspen hums under the moonlight, but in here, time stops. The snow, the night, the flicker of the candle, it’s all part of the show. Because at Steak House No. 316, you’re not just having dinner. You’re starring in your own beautifully directed scene.
Hear it from the Foresyte community.
“You come for the snow and stay for the delusion that you might actually buy real estate here one day. Every drink tastes like someone else’s success story, and somehow that makes it better.”
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