"Next!" "Next!" "Next!" And the cooks point down the line, further and further, faster and faster, demanding orders. It's half past noon on a weekday and you're at the Grand Center institution that is the Best Steak House (established 1964), a cafeteria-style restaurant teeming with workaday life and scrumptious $12 steak dinners and side orders like $1.15 French fries or sour cream for 32 cents plus tax. But there's no time to revel in the bourgeois brilliance of it all. Soon you'll be "Next!" and you'd better know what you want, because these cooks sweating away at the grill behind the cafeteria shield mean business, and so do the two dozen people queued up behind you who want their sixteen-ounce bone-in porterhouses and ten-ounce bone-in sirloins now. So what's it gonna be -- the $6.25 rib-eye special? The steak and shrimp plate? Maybe a chicken Monterey sandwich (you weenie!)? Whatever you choose, don't worry: It's all good. No -- actually it's the Best.