You can gripe until the cows come home about Boston’s relative lack of great steakhouses, but until you’ve bitten into a richly marbled, truly succulent Delmonico at G23, you’ll get little sympathy from us. Sure, it boasts all the requisite amenities of its genre—informed and prompt service, an exemplary wine list, sharp-as-a-tack martinis, and the scent of power wafting from table to table. But what elevates Grill 23 is its willingness to move beyond the hackneyed old boys’ club formula. (With their overly wrought, stereotypically masculine décor, one has to wonder whether other steakhouses around town aren’t compensating for something.) And the menu, while focused on the classics, dares to administer a creative twerk.