The economy is in a permanent downward turn, Nostradamus is predicting a change in magnetic fields and a possible radiation death for human kind in 2012, penguins and seals are dying, consumer confidence is at an all-time low and a global outbreak of a new strain of H1N1 plagues headlines. In these times of fear and anxiety, a little excessive gluttony and lavish expenditures could do your attitude some good. (So says John Thain.) Push your own TARP rules aside for one night, and enjoy what these rain clouds above us have tricked us into overlooking: our own happiness.

90 years ago people escaped their money woes in smoky corners of their local speakeasies for the satisfaction of sweet hootch. Today, I offer a modern-day escape from the depressive 5 o'clock news reality: proper steakhouses, and all the ego stroking and superfluous hedonism that they offer.
 

Take half your paycheck, a stunning date and head to a steakhouse where your every need will be answered, every demand meet with a well-pressed smile and every dish served by two to three people. Choosing a steakhouse that will cater to your superficial desires, however, is of utmost importance. Morton's, Capital Grille, Ruth's Chris, Smith & Wollensky and Barclay Prime can all be saved for clients and weekender parents. Butcher & Singer serves up some great old-fashioned service and Del Frisco's stuns with high ceilings and coquettish hostesses, but Union Trust is the only steakhouse Gordon Gekko would approve, a true steakhouse where you can dine with "bureaucrats, with their luncheons, their hunting and fishing trips, their corporate jets and golden parachutes."
 

Here's how you and your id can play CEO for one night:

Start at the valet, because you won't have to walk more than 2 feet, they open the doors for you and $15 is less than the parking ticket you'll incur because you didn't have enough quarters in your bespoke suit. Proceed to the hostess stand where no less than three smiling women will greet you. Let them know you'll be having a drink at the bar before sitting down and they should come get you in about 15 minutes; request Franco Strati as your server. Order the Loosey Goosey in a highball glass, not their standard martini glass.

Someone will address you formally to take you to your table. She'll weave discerningly through the floorplan to seat you at one in perfect view of the bar. It's a sweet table for two, but you're eyeing up the booths. Strati will be at your table in a moment to check on you; ask him if it's possible to get a booth and to send over Chris Curtis. In a moment you'll be ushered to a booth in such a polite way you'd think you were doing them a favor. Glasses, menus and drinks will all be carried over and positioned at your new table like a montage from Beauty and the Beast and immediately after a grinning Curtis will be by your side asking what types of wine you would like tonight. Don't be shy; use him for his extensive knowledge. Tell him you hate the tannin aftertaste most reds carry, and would like something sweet and smooth, not dry because you're a fan of Rieslings not reds. Give him a challenge. He'll be back in a second but not before you're offered hot cheese and cherry biscuits (and other bread choices that you need to look past). Take a moment to relax and realize you have half the restaurant ready to serve you, and happily so.

Curtis returns with a bottle of Kooyoung, an Australian pinot noir, and begins to explain why this is perfect for what you are looking for. You've never found a red that wasn't too dry, and are expected to politely taste and agree to the bottle, as always, although it won't be what you are looking for. Luckily for you, Curtis has done his homework; the Kooyoung's fine tannins making it one of the most gentle reds you've experienced. This is why you ask for Curtis by name.

Strati is back to check on your order. Half the menu is dedicated to the oysters. This should tell you something: order some oysters. The oyster raw bar is listed by locale and subsumed under East Coast and West Coast pieces. The list is far too copious for a bivalve plebian like you to crack, so ask Strati to have the chef select the freshest array of oysters of the day to present to you, and bring out fried calamari to start.

You'll be pondering how they got the calamari to taste so sweet when five beautiful mollusks on ice arrive. Strati will explain you'll be sampling "chopper" oysters from Wellfleet, Cape Cod; Effinghams from British Columbia (light and smooth, one of your favorites); Kumamotos from Humboldt Bay, California (some of the sweetest oysters you'll taste and a must for timid first-timers); Shugokus from Washington State; and Blue Points from Connecticut. You're not done dipping the sweet calamari in the house-made lemon-pepper aioli when you find your free hand squeezing the mesh-wrapped lemon half over another Kumamoto. Your server team is attentive but not overwhelming, and seem to find the perfect time to refill your wine and take your dinner order.

Order the 24-ounce porterhouse for one, medium rare, because it's the best pieces of meat, the "king of cuts" as butchers refer to it, giving you the two top cuts of meat in one (bone-in strip steak and filet mignon). Encourage your date to order the bone-in filet, because you can't go wrong with a filet, and the bone adds unexpected flavor to the usually shy tenderloin. Have fun with sauce choices (béarnaise is a must), but you'll need to order two sides each, making sure creamed spinach and potatoes au gratin make their way to your table. Upon your foods arrival, ask your servers to cut to check the meat temperature and to serve you sides (a lesser server would fumble with the asparagus).

The night melts on, the Kooyoung is almost tapped, your table is strewn with plates, sides and various utensils. You'll be asked if you'd like dessert; you do. And you'd like a Bailey's on ice to enjoy with your chocolate cheesecake dessert.

While the markets fluctuate and the Chris Matthews of the world remind us that things may be getting worse, follow Charlie Robb's advice (the man behind the Recession 101 billboard ads reminding Americans not to give into the trepidation and anxiety around us, reminding us that the tougher the times, the more resilient Americans seem to emerge). We will use these moments of challenge to evolve, and in the meantime, there's no harm in spending $50 on a perfect porterhouse.